Tristan Robert Lange

When Fireworks Sound Like Bombs

Sitting here on this dark year’s end,

I hope for a better new year.

For a year without fear I hope,

Stuck here at this dark year’s end,

A dying trend that I still pray

To a God who remains silent.

A year minus fear is my hope,

Hiding here in this dark year’s end

I am scared to even be here.

A desp’rate attempt, I still pray

To a God who speaks silence

While I’m here in this dark year’s end.

A new year sans fear is my hope;

I am scared to find myself here

Surrounded by blown out buildings,

I desp’rately attempt to pray

To a God forever silent

Throughout this awful, dark year’s end.

For a safe year—no fear—I hope;

I’m frightened to find myself here

In this God-forsaken war zone,

Surrounded by bombed out buildings,

I desperately cry and pray

To a distantly silent God

For a blessed year—no fear—I hope.

I’m death-scared to find myself here

Dreading death on this dark year’s end.

I cannot pretend I’m okay,

In this love-forsaken war zone.

I am not surprised that I pray

To a monstrously silent God

For the peaceful year that I hope.

Still, I’m scared to find myself here,

Stuck here at this dark year’s end;

I pray for a better new year.

© 2024 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.