Futility’s Face Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

My child lies dead here by my side.
A suicide blast made many die.
Satan is here with a smile on his face,
But he’s lost my child, he is now in God’s Grace!

The cement dust now covers me
With blood soaking head to toe.
My modest clothing torn to shreds,
This is a day of woe!

Inside my son was playing games
With his mother, now gone, and me.
Occasionally we would wrestle,
Or he’d nap upon my knee.

Forever is a very long time
For new absence to depart.
The pain of losses seething,
In my mind and in my heart!

Tomorrow will be for vengeance.
Today the grieving is all I feel.
Where shall I lay my head tonight,
And will my wounds then ever heal?

That day has arrived, I’m armed to my teeth.
I wear armored plating, with boots on my feet.
There are knives in my waistband
A sword bound in it’s sheath,
The cycle continues, where is war’s relief?

Friends who have seen this most pitiful sight,
Blaring on T V’s in their homes every night.
It is not fiction, and the world’s not a stage,
That we can ignore this coming hatred and rage!

This poem penned with ink of tears
Through blinded eyes and truth sincere.
Lord please bring peace to this torn man
That salvation may reign throughout all lands!