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The meaning of destruction.

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Below is the poem entitled The meaning of destruction. which was written by poet Bellantony De Mertens. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The meaning of destruction.

Its cold, clouds grey, no sun to guide me,
hands search for the missing eye that has long since past.
I hear them bicker and curse, do you know what they are?
Slimy slurping dripping muck, the snow has gone, but left my
world with black soot earth.
These creatures seem to thrive on it, thrive on my shallow pit
of existence.
I gather myself, I crack my knees as I bend to pick a limb,
what should go first? Of course my feet to carry me.
With such effort for a pointless quest I begin to think that
there is nothing but death scraping at my neck, hinting at
my demise.
Ages since my trumpets call, they call me home from a 
nightmare of cry's and vomit.
My mind begins to flash with imagery beyond comparison,
a child I see inside my heart, is naked, blind, sick and pale,
OH GOD!! Where is the source for this madness.
I have gathered my pieces and attempt to walk, but see
that I have gathered more than my own share of flesh, there
are those that belong to men,the men thats beneath the soil,
the creatures are red inside my nails.
My color is that of a ruby stone, as cold as one and as hard 
no doubt.
CRACK! BANG! Lighting and sound rip through the sky, this sound
is not of guns or drums.
The dark sky is fat with victory, it spues out its fill upon me, it washes
my world around me only to reveal my horror.
My comrade, my friends, my enemy's and alas, the child of whom gave 
such sadness.
Did I die too? Looking at my broken self, was I tricked to war, yes, this was it,
the price to pay, to pay the earth for its company, it seems we were guests that
outstayed our welcome.
Ha! If we were ever welcomed, I don't think invasion is the same.

So clear now, the rain making sense of it all.
My knees don't crack as I begin to fall.
Cant you see me?I have been killed.
So you can keep your stomach tanks filled.
Thank you all, your prayers are gone.
To feed the horde there victory's won.

Is the memory gone from them?
The world is sane but our race is thin.
Is this world so leaderless? 
Mankind is lone, the world is fearless.
Must we die before they see?
No, die but twice before you free.

Do you have the answer?
With blood in hand and gun in holster?
No one has the meaning or an answer to a thing.
Just that they are happy with there life they have to bring.


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  1. Date: 10/2/2008 11:43:00 AM

    I think i'll finish watching the Colbert Report and get out to feed my birds and plant some trees. The sun is shining, a cool autumn breeze gives voice and motion to the falling leaves. A stray white cat waits patiently for her Meow Mix and I need some fresh air before I read another one of your poems. Lighten up, my dark poet! Hope you have a beautiful autumn day! love, karen