Blast - Poem by Erin Thomas
Misguided angels struck them on their beauteous heights,
Then rotting frames collapsed in flames from carious heights.
Demons vie for rights to control and destroy the masses,
Commanding herds to slaughter from their devious heights.
Sheets of fire consume in the name of good intention;
A rain of steel tears homes apart from dubious heights.
Huddled against fierce wind and cold on the mountain slopes
Refugees watch their cities burn from various heights.
A wide-eyed child points toward flares and thunderous sounds;
His blood-caked mother cries beneath the furious heights.
Seekers of emptiness fall into abysmal depths;
Seekers of fullness fall flailing from hideous heights.
The simple answer stares the world in the face each day;
Seek neither deep and fetid pits nor glorious heights.
With half the world besieged, Zahhar, by war and famine,
How did you come to live amid such bounteous heights?
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Published in Muse Apprentice Guild in Fall of 2003.
This is a ghazal poem.
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