Rage through a dark room
I can hear some noises of thundering blasts
Bombing the same species into unidentifiable blocks of flesh
I can’t keep my eyes open at this atrocity
Mourning and crying of human evolutions
Caused just by us ourselves…
The world has become so vigorous and turbulent
It seems as though it is quaking every second
I am watching through a broken window pane
I can see streams of red blood
Flowing through the cracks in front of me
But beyond the glass pane,
I can visualize some sort of paradise
I can see a melodious river flowing…
She wrinkles and says that “I am crying”
She doesn’t want to live anymore
Every second there seems to be a bomb storm
And we the same species are put prey to see it…
To see our own siblings die of unbearable pain
God, when will mother earth be free from these pains?
I believe it’s already time up
For we do not deserve to be alive in this cruel world
A world with growling hands ready to plunge into our flesh
We don’t deserve the earth anymore…punish us Lord! Punish us!
Sunday, February 18, 2007
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1 comments:
"growling hands" this phrase seemed to have stuck with me...just one of the examples of what i liked in your poem winnnie! Have to add in, it is broodingly pessimistic...but then agin i dont believe in seeing the world in rosy glasses either. Poetry for me personally means making one able to think , paint the picture that the poet wants them to see.... in tht case this is pretty neat~!..keep it up winne!
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