Thick and red, Rivers and Seas meet in tears,
Slowly flowing, they are now made of Fears.
Unrecognisable, our reluctant Reality loses the lines of its Fate,
It’s being reshaped by the unstoppable strength of The Racist lathe.
Without shame, breaks, or sorrow It drags the bones of once Free Swallows,
Into the Abyss they stare, for no more directions are there to follow.
Even the Bight of the Past faded away, it is no longer in sight,
For Life here dies without the breath of those long lost Free Flights.
Speechless and quiet on these invisible Cliffs only young children’s Ghosts now dare,
With missing pieces, directly at us They fearlessly glare!
“Midway through our life’s journey we found ourselves astray, for we had once again lost the path that does not stray.”
(Here we find ourselves, over an over! Dying to find Hope for those we killed, once again unable to prevent the killing Machine).
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