A crimson burn

I witnessed this cruelty when I was about 5.

Amphibian bodies
piled up in hoards
jumping and straining
their sinuous loins
forlornly seeking freedom.

Daggers plunged
deep into flesh
cutting and ripping
slashing and hacking
cold steel flashing in the sun.

and then they returned
to their home.
Now crimson
A babbling brook
turned watery grave.

Struggling and fighting
speeding the end
thrashing the water
which mixed with their blood
and became one.

© Paul O' Neill 2012

Reviews

[lisat]

Such cruelty for one so young to see.

[Gothic Girl]

from the very start, this poem really made me have an internal conflict with myself. LOL. the vague use of vocabulary really made this very beautiful. you somehow left thoughts to ponder for the readers. :)

[Pól]

thank you, gg

[marlayesterday]

I enjoy poetry that leaves much to be said, and allows the reader to take what they will. I liked it much. But forlorn has to be one those words I just delight in. Now crimson a babbling brook turned watery grave. My favorite line. :)

[Pól]

So glad you like it. I tend to write in a sort of ambiguous way to allow the reader to take what they wish from it. Very pleasing that you noticed. Have a read at "Undone" without looking at the comments

This is an write which make me think
Your mystery in it speaks volumes.
You could be a fisherman's child,
Or you just was a witness of something
More cruel.

It makes me wonder.
Explain it me later ;)

But again an A+ for the language.

E.L.