Acts of War Iii
Act Eight, Chapter One. Part Three
Part of a grander play.
A house in conflict.
We are mere players
on this vast infinite stage.
Nothing is accomplished
Nothing is compromised
Fire of infernos n creation intertwined
Struggle for the soul of an innocent child,
the house rocks.
With the kindred of the damned
For what is at stake,
the soul of my little girl.
Her smile fading from memory.
A Holy War is waged.
Jihad!
The lines are drawn in the sand,
In blood, in time
The plans are conspired upon,
priest gather like a rooks
full of murderous cold books.
Heaven's own Holy Judgment.
Their cloaks flapping in the wind
like black wings.
Crucifixes swing...
The doctors, generals
and captains of industry
buy time with their technology
and very little understanding.
Pages from holy grimoire flutter,
fly into the night.
My child crises
I feel a piece of me withering…
My eyes blur in tears with rage
and
I scream,
WHY!
My must my little girl die.
I feel her suffering.
As that sinister black thing is grinning…...
III of III
Copyright © Poet Tellaferro | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment