While you pen in ink
I am writing this down in blood
dipping my quill in life spent
that’s still steamy
from the day’s killing
I am not a writer of fiction
these words are fact
I write what I see
a building full of people
the doors are chained from the outside
the henchmen smile
they love the sound of terror
gasoline and fire such a beautiful sight
one of the black garbed men taunts
flinging the red tongues
the flames lick higher and higher
extinguishing life, hope, dreams
the joke is on you
with each life you dispel
the darkness on the outside
claims what was good on the inside
the wraith will have no home
nothing to claim
flames will consume his soul
…And we just sit back while innocent people who live life quietly are being targeted losing their homes, herded like cattle and killed.
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Author: moondustwriter
Thank you for visiting Moondustwriter. In 2019, we started working with an E. African team developing elementary curriculum for African children. As a writer, it is a thrill to help children who want to learn. As a bio major and nurse, it is exciting to use my knowledge to encourage young minds to love science.
I've been part of the blogging community for more than 10 years. Some old timers may remember the award winning (2011 Twitter Shorty ) blog community - One Stop Poetry. I was the co-producer of that fast growing blog community.
I am a published writer, poet, artist and photographer. I have written, as well as edited, for periodicals, radio, blogs and fellow writers.
There are many facets to this moon - thanks for stopping by.
View all posts by moondustwriter
Yes Leslie I agree we sit back while innocent people lose their homes ,herded like cattle and are killed.
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An all to common portrait of world events.
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