Route 91 To Chaos
Chaos erupted in beds of trucks
As victims ran and ducked, fragile
And scared, as if the gunman cared
As hot projectile tore through 59 souls
While another madman’s wicked
Intentions remain untold, as to why 59 had
To die...enthralled in fun, frantic they run
Or lay breathing the thoughts of pain
Never to breathe hope again.
This heartless mire of evil ran amok,
Though thousands by sheer luck
Blessed to duck, or shield a life, a wife.
Killed in heroic chaotic love, only comes
From above the clouds of disquieted
Dismay of another day the dead bombarded
The graves to soon, before noon we’ll
Question our faith, and accept their fate
As life’s chaotic hate, now it’s too late.
Guns to protect, yet we suspect the killers
Respect no laws or cause - let us pause
Our prayers as our dead climb the stairway
To Heaven. A moment of silence to stop
The violence, we chant rhetoric, make
Hectic the traffic jams, not giving a damn
For the innocent life taken by gun, or knife.
Life matters not to the one with a gun, as we
Run in chaotic retort of excuses for the uses
Of chaotic gun owners and loaners of death.
Chaotic it seems, we dream of a better tomorrow
To borrow money to dance and by chance make
It home unscathed to sunbathe on a beach as
We teach our children chaotic love comes only
From above the heavens where angels dangle
Or prayers in layers of chaotic hope so earth can
Cope with another year of pain by the chaotic insane.
Copyright © Sona Wilae | Year Posted 2017
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