PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Torn asunder

with senses heightening,

this delicate thunder

and fearless lightening

will strike a chord

in the despairing slums,

as the horror’s restored

with the march of the drums.

Towers will fall

with the smell of defeat

and the giants stand small

when ghosts walk the street.

Ravaged with grief

and whispering through doors,

the stealth of a thief

and the evil of wars.

Raining down glass

through the shadows on walls,

with the shards of the past

The apocalypse calls.

Armies unite

for the glittering prize,

as the phoenix takes flight

Futurity sighs.

Oceans divide

and infernos will rage

as the planets collide

in this, a new age.

No man is free

from the sinner’s old hand,

and the devil’s decree

is death roams the land.

Black widow’s weeds

under whitewash of ashes,

fragile loneliness breeds

when all pretence crashes.

Masses retreat

to the holes underground

and when hope’s obsolete

who will be crowned

prince amongst lion

from heads hanging in shame.

Silent prayers of a zion

fall down in vain.

Through tears that burn,

people look to the sun,

and to whom do they turn

when God’s work is done.