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elliot-aPoems
When did the soil give birth to ideologies of hate? Floating thoughts taking hold of tempestuous souls To wreak destitution and abject destruction upon City slabs Intangible ideas, not to be grasped, squeeze hard On curled metal, give birth to flying shells Hit hard on soft targets Stories held within forms, never known to thy perpetrator Indiscriminate fury built upon muddled theory How powerful a virulent ideology Minds clash in spoken wars, yet the earth does recoil As fragile limbs confronted by flying shells Limp, lifeless hand stretched forth Pleading for continuation of a life not contemplated to end Not here, in this way Crudely broken by the stench of decay I remember when Friday night was for play Humanities throat pressed upon not by religion Knife drawn not by capitalism Shots fired not by secularism Yet a common strain persists in all That of power seeking Corrupting hearts, dividing parts uneven, the spread obscene Impose a will on another Crush fledging life pursuing what is best to you Oh! The clouds I plead beneath pass me by Your ‘best’ is but yours, permit me to fly by
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
For Victims of Ideology
When did the soil give birth to ideologies of hate? Floating thoughts taking hold of tempestuous souls To wreak destitution and abject destruction upon City slabs Intangible ideas, not to be grasped, squeeze hard On curled metal, give birth to flying shells Hit hard on soft targets Stories held within forms, never known to thy perpetrator Indiscriminate fury built upon muddled theory How powerful a virulent ideology Minds clash in spoken wars, yet the earth does recoil As fragile limbs confronted by flying shells Limp, lifeless hand stretched forth Pleading for continuation of a life not contemplated to end Not here, in this way Crudely broken by the stench of decay I remember when Friday night was for play Humanities throat pressed upon not by religion Knife drawn not by capitalism Shots fired not by secularism Yet a common strain persists in all That of power seeking Corrupting hearts, dividing parts uneven, the spread obscene Impose a will on another Crush fledging life pursuing what is best to you Oh! The clouds I plead beneath pass me by Your ‘best’ is but yours, permit me to fly by
#life#religion#death#loss#hurt#power#victims#syria#paris#ideology
Written by
elliot-a
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
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