Dec 2020
By Morning Star – Dec 2020
The sky’s light burns
a crimson glow of pain—
Amen of all sin.
Nations sigh.
They look up
to who they once adored,
in sorrow—
Yet poppies,
they will all endure
tomorrow.
Tears of rain
fall from the heavens above,
Slowly filling rivers
with his blood.
Yet still,
the mighty
have not understood.
Silent,
in their shallow reverie.
Eyes are open,
yet still they do not see—
The simple love.
The peace
of humanity.
Cross blood sea.
The sky’s light burns
a crimson glow of pain—
Amen of all sin.
Nations sigh.
They look up
to who they once adored,
in sorrow—
Yet poppies,
they will all endure
tomorrow.
Tears of rain
fall from the heavens above,
Slowly filling rivers
with his blood.
Yet still,
the mighty
have not understood.
Silent,
in their shallow reverie.
Eyes are open,
yet still they do not see—
The simple love.
The peace
of humanity.
Cross blood sea.
Cross blood sea
This reads like a prayer for those lost and a warning for those who still choose power over peace. It’s compact, but deeply resonant.
Religious language ("Amen," "baptism") as contrast to violence
The symbol of the poppy as both remembrance and resilience
Nature (rain, rivers, sky) as witness to human brutality
A call for awakened compassion
This reads like a prayer for those lost and a warning for those who still choose power over peace. It’s compact, but deeply resonant.
Religious language ("Amen," "baptism") as contrast to violence
The symbol of the poppy as both remembrance and resilience
Nature (rain, rivers, sky) as witness to human brutality
A call for awakened compassion
