Epstein and the Weight of Witness

 

For more than seven days my rest has fled,

The Epstein Files like fire within my bones;

They haunt my waking hours, crowd my head,

A witness crying out from guarded thrones.

They speak of nights where power fed on shame,

Of doors unsealed yet willfully ignored;

Woe to the hands that knew, yet never named,

Woe to the courts that bargained truth for order.

We trusted crowns that promised to defend,

Believed the strong would shield the frail and small;

But silence proved a traitor, not a friend,

And fear became the loudest voice of all.

This is the hour: let hidden things be shown;

For truth will rise, though long it wept alone.

© 2026 Pastor Emmanuel Serto