Form: Raven’s Rovi Sonnet 60

Recalling that morning I can’t forget
Acrid fumes of smoke sticking in my throat
The fires of hell burning the earth, and yet
No one could see them, the rivers of blood
Flowing black mingled with the ash and dust
Covering the streets with death’s own flood
The tears of children lost in our disgust
Their homes craters where bombs fell with a thud
While the men of power just sit and gloat
For this their war feeding their untamed greed
And the bombs of war have fuelled their lust
The innocent are another threat
In sadness I hear cries of social need
As death became victory’s sacred creed


3 thoughts on “Cinders

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