THE INNOCENT CHILD AT THE FACE OF WAR

The sounds of blameless sounds rang upon my ears and every things went wrapping against,
At different interflows were the unintended collusions of bleeding leaves crying sweet red,
So I was eager to see with my own eyes not rely on the window of thick rods I depended on.

Out I went , and all I could phantom were errors and misunderstanding in my self childish views,
The pendant of mother was lying with stains of same sweet red Juice,
All the way was my pay for not understanding as a child learning the cold drizzling of pains.

To a halt I uphold myself against the spaces while I embraced the walls and suckled her bricks with the rain drops from my eyes,
Because watching mother and the tiny round iron that swept through her skull gave me a sigh of bitter end with monstrosities,
What could be fleering? I wandered in my silent taught while I gazed through the thousand bodies lying as though smiling yet motionless to life.

I only take up the traces of my heart to taught,
Fighting the storms inside me that breed dreams,
Wearing only the coat of silence watching the confusion.

Will my memory count that to the war I knew not was?
How about the conflicting kisses of my cheeks from the sweet red looking aglow on mothers' lips?
Weren't they the same ones I had seen dazzling all over the thousand bodies who laid-smiling?

Oh! Mother how I miss the touch in your chest,
Oh! Life you're such a pain built in me like a guest,
But never the less I sense the moment of today.

My end too comes and with hope I embrace,
Cause my name dies just like she who gave it,
As long as I shall see my family again.

O' war you left me defrayed,
Out of innocence I misled,
Yet you invite death on me with hunger braided.

Blocks of hell arrest my faith to stay,
Yet a mountain of bottomless hope I hold unto,
As the sunrays remind time of my going into sleep.

Am lonely on my way today to you mother,
Wait at the junctions of death to pick me up,
And home we shall go to our new rest.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741