All the Wickedness of War
If you enjoyed this war poem you might enjoy this one :
War and Destruction
There was a slight rise,
the shooting was steady,
bullets in the air,
machine gunners drawing fire,
taking risks, making dares,
and many deaths for hire,
mangled bodies piled up,
so many soldiers littered the ground,
and bombs scarred the sky,
God’s anger mounting higher,
as he watches his children die,
mothers’ voices sounding frantic,
feelings and emotions drained,
God made a gesture of dismissal,
almost as if he wanted to give up,
there was so much violence,
spilling over in his spiritual cup.
God could barely contain his fury,
he knew that no man has ever achieved immortality,
and no man rejoiced from death,
as he watches the strong destroy,
and the weak suffer the most,
and when he tried to offer hope,
mortals turn their backs on the Holy Ghost.
God knows that he cannot launch an attack,
although it would be swift and sure,
but it would not be right,
and it would not be pure,
so the suffering humans will never endure,
as they would have God,
tried, convicted, and punished,
for their wickedness.
They will take their turn,
as they watch holiness burn,
for all the evil men churn,
and in God’s wickedness
they fail to learn.
© 2011 Frank Atanacio
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