The Devil's Game - Poem by Julius Glasthal
Black shadow broke the gust,
left nothing but ash and dust.
Moths fly from the debris,
leaving everything behind as they flee.
The bombs fall, raining havoc across the meadows.
Laughing darkness reign over all the fellow,
They cry as they bleed out their last breath,
bullet wounds ooze from thier chest.
Oh the screaming children.
A bellow unheard from any ears,
The vultures grin at their blood filled tears.
Their hunger drives them for flesh.
Oh how the hunger kills them.
They wait for that last sign of life,
so that they can feast on the remains in peace.
Gun tips burn as the clip lets out its last bullet.
It's war at its best, the devil's game.
To snatch the souls he wish to keep,
demons laugh as the mothers weep.
Comments about The Devil's Game by Julius Glasthal
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You