The Tears of War
What is this silence of eruption?
This stifled resonance of tremors below?
Why are the glistening ducts emitting but mutant cries down the face of truth?
When will the quiet pain find the freedom to just be that which it longs to be—peace?
Many wished tomorrow morning would vanish
Where once there were sunrises waiting to be seen
Even as clouds seemed heavy
Hope was there
Somewhere in all the last nights
And the time in between
Emptiness fills the moonlit sky where once bright reminders
Pointed to memories yet to come
Road signs not yet discovered
Every morning explodes again
And last night becomes today
Making all that seemed possible
Evaporate with the mist of drifting fog
Saturated with bodily smoke
The shorelines of lost souls continuing to decay
Making friendly trade winds steer afar
Where once their warmth cradled innocent solitude
Hopefully the tonights of future tomorrows will bring new beginnings
For time cannot repeat itself
It can only continue forward as the next interval
Leaving in its path the residue once thought…
Once even called…
What was it called back then
When there was never a possible “last” night?