Wednesday, August 13, 2014

8:15 and 2:02

Red oleander blossoms, Hiroshima’s fruit after devastation burns shadows into stone. Petals eradicate hopelessness amid heaps of charred obliteration. Mercenary fingers pushed down the button sending Little Boy to do the work of playground bullies. Three days later Fat Man would send the message that war isn’t for the squeamish, and children must burn. Today, it is the same. Children die faceless and unknown. Pawns and prey are preyed upon and prayed upon. Babies suckled with blood and tears. Remnants remain forever scarred. Ghostly figures limp. Breathe. Howl. Agonies erupt on blistered skin. A blue hole where a mouth should be begs for soup. Sockets, which once housed eyes, envision untouched landscapes. While ears ring with the echo of Enola Gay as she streaked the cloudless sky.
 

4 comments:

  1. Sadly mankind continues to excel in its quest for inhumanity. I hard enough to survive in any case without find new ways to obliterate each other. Sadly no hope or reassurance can be offered. You have done the right thing in continuing to demonstrate our stupidity but we are a deaf race of creatures.

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  2. I like how you expanded upon it. Powerful, powerful words of suffering and chaos that define war to those innocent caught in its grip. There are never any winners. Well done.

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  3. Sadly we don't seem to learn as humanity and keep killing the most vulnerable.

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  4. lessons not learned ,Satan is still thriving as the ways of inhumanity increasing day by day

    Maps To Peace

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