A War of Death
- Julia Pope
- Mar 8
- 1 min read
Death.
How does one deal with the deadly?
Dance around the fact,
Till death do us part.
Love is not more powerful than death,
The lord, supposed to save us, carries us up to the clouds
Or does the lord bury us underground?
What happens when the BOOM! BAM! CRACK!
Shots ring out?
The fight ended in a matter of seconds
The lord does not love us
Or does he?
In our world of hatred
Killing of the neighbor
Funeral of the friend.
Attended by only the other mourned.
Almost two million have moved on,
Brown boxes being shipped home
With the yellow and blue flags, half-mast.
The newest Red Army, retaliation.
Lifeless
Stiff as a stick,
Blood, whisked away, and gone from the bone.
The lord doesn’t react
As a matter of fact, he brings more graves
More caskets
More memorials
More dead.
Death.
It’s the lord's specialty,
In a world full of hatred,
Where the bombs go off, and borders are crossed
The lord controls death.
The lord wins all his fights.
We are all dead.
Death, it's our future.
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