Us 'the Damned' Poem by Michael Fitzroy

Whirlwinds of time
Sweeping through the valley's of life
The downpours of good
With storms of bad
Mountain top prophet's
Directing the mists
Clouding the sun
Darkening the moon
The manipulation of days
And the source of our nights
Our forefathers begged
Our ancestors died
In our darkest hours
Or brightest day
We sow seeds of destruction,
A race so pure
Yet and animal so wild
Our resources are gold
Our weapons are guns
In the name of good, we promote
An evil so pure, our love long gone
We destroy, all that is dear,
The very source of life
That we love to hate

Poet Mike Fitzroy Copyright©2015 All Rights Reserved