Wednesday, 29 June 2011

A Painful Truth

A figure of death
Looms over the land
A nuclear scythe
Is borne in his hand
Wearing a mantle
Of consuming fire
He lights for our world
A funeral pyre

I flee in terror
But find no escape
For all of this land
Shows signs of his rape
Where-ever I go
He is always there
Stripping the land
And leaving it bare

I hear his cruel laughter
A malicious sound
While his victim’s corpses
Are thick on the ground
He’s dealing out death
And pain on a whim
There can be no way
Of hiding from him

But now I am running
So desperate to hide
For I’ve glimpsed a truth
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I cannot abide
The horror flows through me
For now I can see
There is no escape
This figure is me!

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  1. Vivid and stark imagery Phil, damn terrifying but nonetheless a great piece of poetry


  2. Words are less to praise your poetry Phil.just a great work.Best wishes.