September skiesA Poem by Michael of GileadFew things have as deep a hold on me as thisClear white contrails cut a cloudless azure September sky
A deaths-head moving at the speed of sound To the east a black smudge rises The mighty have fallen, our innocents shook The cries of the thousands grab my soul As they plummet in screeching metallic twisting agony Driving a black smoking hole deep into the earth Riding a freight train straight into hell A last moment to ask; why? A wound still lays bare Still bleeding the lives of 2,753
When do the dead stop crying The scab of construction can not hide Ghostly pillars of light ask; why? 9 years ago, nothing has changed © 2010 Michael of GileadReviews
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