Saving The Ant Bed

Ants go marching in, their tortured souls follow each others trail.

Who can pretend like they are alive in the closing walls of hell?

Nothing good grows only evil intentions survive.

But how can gold grow in a boiling pot full of dead eyes?

Depressing sights of the poor will eventually disappear.

No human being could save such a damned sphere.

The caskets are filled with the bodies of the young.

We watch as they fly to a safer place, where their hearts can experience love.

When will the avenging angels finally start to enter the fight?

When will the darkness die, when will there be light?

The ants are marching down to the ground, waiting for the rain to clear.

They keep fighting until the shadow of the grim reaper disappears.

Shame to the kings

Shame to the queens

All we can do is pray for God to have mercy on their souls.

Beacause we will keep fighting until the last soldier fades into the camouflage below.

 

 

Author's Note

One of my older writes

Reviews

[caleb]

There is a lot of depth to this poem; very intriguing.

[Chris]

Sort of an acceptance and a numbness both...
word use, choice and understanding well beyond
child level...

Chris

[Ky]

Wowza. I knew by the first two lines thast this poem was dark. And yet i couldn't pull away. As if some dark behemouth was holding me. I'm glad i finished it. A very powerful peice.

Well done

[Angie Diane♥&hea..]

This was a good write. I really liked it.
It was interesting to say the least. I am speechless as to what to say beyond that though.
Thanks for sharing. :D