*Response to a poem by Terry O'Leary....
of lost promise,
of the damning futility of war.*
Of War you speak, in tongues of pain
You caste the colours darkly red,
You paint the atmosphere as rain
Of crimson tide to drown the dead.
Of twisted souls, you etch and faced
The passions felt, in tears of shame,
You sculpt the lines of guilt misplaced
Accumulated shards of blame.
Where hath the innocence flown of late ?
Where is the concience worn?
Why hides the love in tiers of hate
Where hope's catharsis borne?
What chance tomorrows tender tear?
What chance of helping hand?
Were man's intentions once made clear
In Boa's war locked land?
M.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
*Response to a poem by Terry O'Leary....
of lost promise,
of the damning futility of war.*
Of War you speak, in tongues of pain
You caste the colours darkly red,
You paint the atmosphere as rain
Of crimson tide to drown the dead.
Of twisted souls, you etch and faced
The passions felt, in tears of shame,
You sculpt the lines of guilt misplaced
Accumulated shards of blame.
Where hath the innocence flown of late ?
Where is the concience worn?
Why hides the love in tiers of hate
Where hope's catharsis borne?
What chance tomorrows tender tear?
What chance of helping hand?
Were man's intentions once made clear
In Boa's war locked land?
M.
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