Desolation

Of the terrible and the wonderful, the lull then roaring sound, The footprints of the heathen Gods stamped upon the ground, The breath of Satan’s lungs and how the landscaped churned, How this desolation bade the world both deluged and burned. With the bodies and the buildings strewn around, around, around, Such as grist beneath the elements that bluster, rage and pound, Leaving in their wake of anarchy destruction far and wide, A war declared by twists of fate, climactic genocide. Of the horrible and the marvellous, somewhere amidst the hell, Human hearts and souls rose up and stood against the swell, Survivors yet against all odds, against such deficit, Survived in spite of aid they got and not because of it. Now this Third World in America should never ever be, In this land of wealth and power, freedom’s flame, democracy, There are men and women, children: broken, beaten, ravaged, shaken, In the name of all that’s holy, do not add they be forsaken. "AID IS NEEDED NOW! TOMORROW, FOR SOME, WILL BE TOO LATE!"