Evil Were the Flying Angels
Tears would well her eyes, if there were any left.
Pray there’s none as one drop would flood the world.
One, two, three, four and many more, she lost them all.
There remained is her loin no more pain to bring out a cry.
Marred body, disfigured figure, she stared blankly at the mounds.
Underneath lie spoiled seedlings of human race!
Expectation rises at time where hope there’s none.
What's more agonizing than this?
To bury your own with your own hands!
A never ending nightmare for survivors.
“How Evil is so powerful if God exists?” they cry.
Blood soaked soil or is it sediments of those burnt alive in seconds.
Heaped together they lie; plants, animals, man and man-made.
His majesty the Devil delivered his gift of doom;
“Little boy” and “Fat man”, he laughed at jokers; humans!
"I’m the Super Power. I want complete obedience!”
He boasted, despising her force to procreate, revolted at the gift of God.
So easy to infiltrate the witless human race and guide them as puppeteer!
Two mere days of holocaust and eternity to mock the brainless angels, “Protectors, huh!”
In immense grave they all lie, cradling every new comer helplessly.
One brazened mother stood upon the large bosom of another, questioning the sky. How many more years to carry the curse of that angelic sin?
Doomed are the ill fated souls of little small beings, already martyred in womb;
far heavier burden of agony to carry on fragile shoulders to another realm, head bowed in utter humiliation to relate this story of human’s crime to those above. Souls might never wish to be to be born human!
Messengers of God on earth; justice, their motto!
How so partial? Only drops to burn so many, for a lifetime?
"No more!" When are their pleas to be heard? To be ridden of
the particles of death? Raw bruises of their souls to be soothed
and their dead lands to be bloomed again?
“God”, if there’s one, though untimely, may certainly shed some tears of pity
to wash that sin of humanity, if ever it decides to leave its golden throne and pay some charity visit to them!
She slowly lifted a stone and placed it on one mound.
Her little girl name is today just a stone mark!
Those who escaped that fate, were chosen to stay living corpses; deterrent to others who would dare!
Common grave for millions, today makes lips quiver in horror and souls
sag in fear with its very name,
Hiroshima and Nagasaki!
Resubmitted on 11/10/16
Date composed: 2/07/16
Copyright © Sunita U.D Palawon | Year Posted 2016
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