Oh God of the ancient book, are you proud of us?
How we twist your precious life until it breaks
Have you abandoned us?
Or worse have you gathered us up
Like a mother would a four year old child
to hold us until we die of asphyxiation
Are you afraid of us?
Oh God of the hard wood church, do you even know we exist?
Or have you created a new universe to play in.
Let me shout it from the highest tree:
No No No No No!!!!!
Poor little Shura, only four, when she was held and Mothered,
Grasped so tight by the talons of “Evil” until she smothered,
Has innocence ever born a more beautiful face?
It seems that beauty cannot live long in this place.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: December 26th, 2024 05:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments4
Powerful and shaming it cries out to a deaf world. Lovely
Deaf indeed.Thanks for your comments
Beauty indeed is short lived. I’ve heard that being said often enough as a child and still have to arrive at its full knowledge.
yes time being fast takes care of that.
Oh my, yes! Thanks DWa 🙏🏻
I found this a haunting and emotional piece of poetry, sadly we seem to live a world where our aim is to destroy all beauty. Well written read
Thank you for commenting
You are very welcome
Very powerful words Davis and so true, the god of the ancient book is supposed to save us but he/she is never there when needed, or there at all.
Andy
So true mi amigo.Thanks for taking time to comment
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