We dance feverishly of wars and death,
yet we yearn for the dance to stop.
We embrace the cause of some other man -
we are led to believe that
it is a means to an end
and we believe it.
We usher our children to
stride out blindly into the fray,
without looking back, without questions.
We, who are so civilized,
think ourselves to be above it all
and yet, we continue and contribute
we are the righteous, the strong.
And in the center of the whirlwind,
we try to believe that we are untouched,
when we are simply sitting in the Eye...
Our generations rise and fall
and we all sit idly by,
while the rage and the fury
becomes ever more potent beneath our feet.
The killers are living in our houses,
gazing up at us with innocent eyes...
And we fail them repeatedly, never seeing
the signs of their innocence dying.
The children we have so carelessly raised
are the sacrificial lambs we dress in patriotism.
We send the sheep out amongst the wolves,
covering our eyes and denying the truth.
This is the age of perpetual blindness,
when we choose to ignore, and refuse to accept
and it becomes our undoing,
it is our demise.
© Copyright 2016 Violet Vane. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Horror
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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