Terrorist Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Bullets rip through the air
In the name of religion,
Misquotes,
That hail ones belief,
Devastion of the masses,
Hands shiver, as they pull back
The hammer that leads to the trigger,
Slayers of the innocent,
Bullets tear through the flesh,
A religion felt with the bullets that weep as to why they were created,
Lost in an orchard that flashes bright yellow and red,
A portrait painted with blood stained hands,
Between you, between I,
Casualties of gasoline covered hearts,
When do they spark,
Words fly like bullets,
Traces of you remain through the ash,
Skeletons, that re-enact hand gestures made in silence,
A worldwind that breathes as an tornado,
Havoc that breathes recreation,
After devastion,
Caught in prayers limbo,
An infidel, caught in belief,
As this religion begins with you,
And the debris of a heart that lies in ruins