Darker Day Poem by Michael Fitzroy

Broken Fragments of a twisted mind
Mostly dark with extremes of sad
Her journeys end is never reached
The vortex of time, her only road
Through our lands, she sows her seed
Preaching hatred, greed and mostly death
With destruction always close at hand
Carving pathways through mankind
Mothers raped and daughters maimed
Little boys with gun in hand
Her tools of choice, until death she does guide
The lands are dark and men are few
Vultures share, with us our dead
The warlords march another day
The cry of Africa will be heard
In a time to come
When we shall share the peace and bury the past.

Poet Mike Fitzroy Copyright©2015 All Rights Reserved