Where All The People Are Dead (Poem#2)

The rain poured down so heavily
As the flames continued to spread
Destruction was brought upon the land
As all the people bled.

Bodies littered the filthy streets,
As blood formed streams, formed rivers,
There was no time to mourn the dead,
Time spent from voices quivered.

I'd say the sadness ruled the land,
But destruction was its king.
Nothing stronger than this power,
No higher, better being.

Many cry themselves to sleep,
Though some are without tears.
A few decide enoughs enough-
Their heads no dangle on spears.

Though one managed to change the world,
Not through actions, but words she writes.
And although she is dead, her death foretold,
Her words seep through the night.

"Our blood flows through our veins
Like it flows throughout the streets.
Our guts connected inside of us,
Not strewn around like meat.
How loud are our voices
As we scream in pain?
Why is it that we whisper
The anger that we've claimed?
Are we so sad, so pitiful,
We can't stand on our own?
That we tumble down, bow to the floor
Just of the words 'the throne'?
We are ourselves, our bodies, ours
Our lives we control
The king should not be dictating
Every place we go!
Use your voice, your rights, your screams,
Turn the kings orders into pleas,
We have a job to do, peace to return.
Let's establish liberty"

And the crowd roared, the people cheered,
But in the end, she went alone.
Straight to the castle,
Straight to the throne.

And soon she was hanged,
Her dead body shown.
The noose clung to her neck
Like destruction clings to home.

Now when the rain pours so heavily,
And the fire continues to spread,
Destruction will rule over this land,
Where all the people are dead.