God of apathy, let us know your laws.
Destroy my spirit and splinter my heart,
Cut deep into my soul with tiger’s claws,
Shatter all that is precious in your art.
Lord of fear, abandon us in the dark,
Erode and destroy our divine vision,
Heat the branding iron and leave your mark,
Do your surgery without precison.
Draw the curtains, that this sad play may cease.
Close the shutters against the coming storm.
Wake the sleeping, that they might be at peace,
Let them believe the waves of death are calm.
Angel of my terror, press my eyes closed,
And bury the box with golden handles,
Torture the children until they are dead,
And let us drown listening to the last bells.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: February 26th, 2025 01:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments3
A searing, telling work. It also echoes the sentiment of one pronounced dead and cancelled in the daily grind. It would be notable should the apathetic, fearful, non-existent one somehow respond. 🙏🏻🕊
Cannot wait for that response. Thanks for your inspired comments comrade
Excellent write David
Thank you mi amigo
You're welcome
Dark and sad this poem speaks to the black side of man and yet it has such good wording and images. Well done
Thank you for commenting compadre
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