Cold and hard was the night
as hot steel rained from the moonless sky
fire and smoke billowed forth, forming deadly plumes,
that skitter the now lifeless terrain.
Precariously with the dawning day, through filtered light,
one can see, how little remains.
I, now from a distant star,
look down on a landscape charred.
New fears are ushered into my already fragile mind.
I question and ponder,
how could this be happening, in this place and time?
For there is no rhyme or reason,
That beholds calamities season.
Is not this, the US of A,
Are not these atrocities supposed to happen thousands of miles away?
Yet look and see this day
The ashes of MY home,
that a bitter wind now blows along.
Take from me this horrible dream,
I shout with silent scream,
As I peer helplessly at the world… our world below.
Awaken me now please, from these terrible woes
and give me peace once again, and all that I know.
Leave me now and take your flight,
go swiftly back to your netherworlds night,
for I shall not study war......NO MORE...
for this dream has given me fright
and I shall never glory in hollow victories
that have bequeathed this place
to the pale rider and his horse.
Pity the children…war is waste
~Peace~ J. Allen Wilson © 2004