O! I do not tread easily upon this broken road,
My solemn words do not come effortlessly afoot.
I’m struggling with my country, and her duty,
Allegiance with the gutless beast of her blood.
Children are being devoured by everlasting,
Red-blasting, aggressive, and unholy greed,
As if waiting for the black and bleeding hand
Of Allah to reach through the raven gloom and
Put sorrowful life's hands `round our throats
And slaughter us; His soft construction.
O! I do not tread lightly upon the corpse lined road
Of our destruction,
Words fall hard, bitter.
Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman