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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1389041
Death appears to be stalking the innocent! To kill seems to be in fashion!
So much of the world seems to be at war!
What or who is everyone fighting for?
Why do we feel?
To whom do we pray?

Do ears no longer listen to, or hear,
Silent screams of those who constantly fear?
Is this life real?
Or is it a play?

The whole wide world, is it just one great stage?
That spins and turns, burns in spirals of rage?
Is that the deal?
Split like broken clay?

Beauty is sinking and sullen mists rise,
Steadily blue to black turning the skies.
Will it conceal
Truth, will it betray?

Cyclones of sounds that breed winds that blow ill,
Like packs of wild wolves we snap and we kill!
Will blood congeal,
To rot and decay?

Are the flags of freedom shredded in rags?
Are protesting voices silenced by gags?
Too late to heal?
Too far gone away?

Shattered spirits and shards of splintered minds,
Is there nothing there for us that reminds?
That can reveal
A more honest way?

Where death does not stalk from dawns to dusks,
And men hunger for more than empty husks?
Will we repeal?
Turn black night to day?




This is not just about war.
I have written a blog entry "Death Stalks From Dawn To Dusk. Are We Powerless To Stop It?Open in new Window. which explains why I am so angry and why I wrote this poem!
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