Blue shadows bleed through Kingston’s veins,
Steel tongues spit law like acid rains.
Sirens wail—no hymn, no grace,
Just echoes lost in time and space.

Batons dance where justice dies,
A chorus sung through battered cries.
Cuffs carve sermons into bone,
A gospel preached in hollow tones.

The night is thick, the law is blind,
The guilty free, the lost confined.
A question asked, a threat returned,
The gun decides what lessons burn.

A name erased, a mother torn,
A dawn defiled before it’s born.
And still, the sky turns black to blue,
As if the dead could rise anew.