Like suburban sunsets war has taken hold of Fate, closed hands in. Drenched quenched killed red rain pouring down from lightening grey skies empty outskirts of people walking through deserted streets hushling and shuffling inside
a bomb hit the town the day the red rain came down
people sitting in homes hiding away in fear yet some scream they have no sanctum here Street children Are all gone And little the little ruddy whose leftover Is left all alone with silent cries afraid men in boots will hear his empty gafing into chilled air he hides in an alley his knee cut right open and to the bone
he hides behind a dumpster in the shelter of the rain while men in iron clad gear scuffle past cold metal frameworks of what used to be a fence and back out the alley and returning to the streets where shops sit devastated or nothing left from where a building stood ruins of the castles that labour built up now gone to waste breaking down the empire a mighty kingdom Of human sacrifice hard work to grind the stone and put it in it's place and now gone by bombs and cold blooded ******
A woman, I saw her scream she held a child in her arms behind her there were flames raging like a beast and open fire arms guns like whips shooting quick she ran for her life but still they shot her down, I think, or the fire got her
I wish I could reach out and help but I only knew that in the end they would have shot two If I stepped up to my plate, had I thought for a moment, death is better fought in a raging battle then to meekly grow old and shrivel like a raisin. No longer shall I stare gravely at my hands. if such a situation should again arise I'll put my soul in trust and pray for heavened skies
And still, to this day, the brittle lies of my countries ways tell me these people are the enemies but I can't help but to think that isn't so I stood solemn while I watched my insides punch at me scream at my betrayal tall I stood with my chest to the air I tried to stomp back the truth thinking I could escape the air by raising my head tall but if I stopped my effort limp it hung. I could not grasp what I had done I did what they told me, wasn't that correct? tall I stood like a statue The ones they would make for us back home and I could not help but feel That any statue With my face, no matter the size could not bring me back what I lost When I looked into that womans eyes
the so called enemies they share the same filth The same soul and cells that make up matter with a being of beauty on the inside, all striving for something greater, accepting and living life with flaws going home at the end of a hard worked day and greeting their love with a warm exhausted smile and sitting in a lamplit room on a rocking chair covered in a knitten blanket or by a bedside table poking through words with reading glasses sipping at their tea with parched lips stumbling now and then to silently thank for what they have. Reading to their children, fulfilling the little ones curious and eager desires.
It pains to see the universe within them when their faces met mine and I could see the Ocean and the moon and all that is divine, then I saw it melt away by the twist of grubby hands from men who had no clue what world they were living when once a work hat was put on walked away from all that they knew
and so red rain Begins to fall on the shoulders of us all It opens the mud of the ground and leaks into the heart
The great and mighty sky with clouds of coal And ashen grey boil together lost in a swirl then they too break out unleashed released from all that they held
the red rain pours down creating puddles and dripping like a spoat carressing the mother who too needs a soak to wash away what we left on her earth and what we did to her people
The red rain It satisfies our sorrow it cleanses us of our pain and helps to wash away, in the wakes of our betrayal, what we left lying
but even rain does not take from me the sounds of people crying
the red rain it hits everyones shoulders everyones shoulders everyone every single person including mine.
Dreaming upon memories of war stories, perhaps it's this city rain looking through old family photos again, a bit choppy.