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Mankind Thru The Looking Glass Part 1

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Below is the poem entitled Mankind Thru The Looking Glass Part 1 which was written by poet George Anos. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Mankind Thru The Looking Glass Part 1

MANIPULATION AND WAR’S SPECTRE

When races, politics and religions,
Are grimly brandished as righteous reasons, 
To bloody calm fields and serene seasons,
Tis madness, paranoia…delusions.

A mans grandiose superiority lore,
Humanity’s stinking, putrid, sore,
To slaughter the blameless, to covet more,
To pollute the young, their mind’s pristine shores.

Fanatics and tyrants , Pretension, Guile,
Fear and false promises, each step, each mile.
Blaring cries, from ululation to heil
Toy soldiers to acts, horrendous and vile.

Titles, Crests, brashly flown, boldly flaunted, 
Masking Ill intent, visions distorted.
The façades, they glitter, souls…contorted,
Sanity’s head, on a mute wall, mounted.

Shrill propagandas, with glorified tomes,
Blood against blood, against sanctified homes.
Reining free spirits with guns and cannons,
Luring dark psyches, to spade mountain of bones.

Deeply entrenched fears, rife for the taking,
Or herded cattle, with whipped prodding.
Subjugation.. and countless underling,
The ignorant, weak, cowards a-trembling.

Plunge to the abyss, for banners rotten,
Misplaced enthusiasm, fallen children.
Logic defied, moral qualms forgotten, 
Or mere puppets, to terror beholden.

On such obedience, A sinister threat,
To firmly believe, their destinies met.
Or Swords above heads, dire warning to death,
The faithful, The fearful, their mingled sweat.

GENOCIDE AND RACISM

The shade of man’s skin, culture and creed,
Does not make one a rose, the other, weed.
Borne to this garden, from a single seed,
Diverse emotions, guiding every deed. 

Spite and hate, dark clouds of harmony,
In one man’s heart, a rotting jealousy.
To turn against one’s, own, brother blindly,
Is the height of madness, they cannot see.

Is it not colours that turns drab to art?
Then why in skin does it play a part?
In destroying others, their lives and hearth,
Without colours, where will a painter start?

The same caress of subtle winds we feel,
For sustenance, the same wet soil we till.
Our progress’re driven, by the same poked wheel,
Then answer me why each other we kill?

The same rays of fiery sun, greets us all,
In the morning, to rise and shine it’s call.
The same glorious sunsets hold us in thrall,
Then why in our hearts we erect this wall?

When will men and nations begin to end?
It is never too late to change and mend,
Genocide is humanity’s foul fiend,
When will brothers fin’lly embrace as friends?


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