If you think you’re in control,
There comes a blow of forces dark,
A dervish whirling troll,
Leaves behind a searing mark,
Scars of flesh and landscapes raw,
In its wake it leaves behind,
Death, destruction, is all I saw,
In this wake of a whirling grind,
Cuts little children, moms, and dads’,
Pooches, kittens, all that lives,
These angry weathers dark jihads,
Like scimitars of flashing knifes,
Leaves in its wake but tears and pain,
Rips apart that loving hands,
Had build to last, but all in vain,
Not a church or house it stands,
Prayers, for their hurting hearts,
That understanding passes by,
When forces nature act their parts,
From an angry darkened sky,©03/03/2012
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Eileen
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Ron
We join you in prayer, my friend. Far too many are hurting these extremely sad days.
Regis