Noise so abrasive,
Whilst thought becomes evasive,
Indistinguishable from any other,
Laying beside and all about,
Someone’s Sister, someone’s Brother,
Silence descends in place of the sound,
No more the shaking of the ground,
Scattered people like skittles lay,
Who shed their life-blood on this day,
For no reason of their own choosing,
Yet sleep they forever now,
Murdered and killed,
So much un-necessary destruction,
Whilst a desperate struggling nation,
Tested by faith,
And those to whom loyalties stand,
Oppressing the women,
Their heads are in the sand,
Teaching their children to hold a gun,
Whilst washing themselves of sin,
Under a raging sun,
These are the so-called servants,
For good cause?
Damaging and upping their political scores,
Unhesitant to kill their own people,
Their hate could almost knock a church steeple,
These are the ‘Men’ who fight until death,
Yet we shall not relent until our last breath,
So I cannot see how this War could end soon,
And my thoughts turn over,
Under a darkening Moon,
Will it be an infinite lifetime task,
And how much longer can it really last?
So many innocents lost forever,
On this utterly frustrating,
And useless endeavour.
© Copyright 2017 Kathleen Oakwood. All rights reserved.
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