Tears of Blood
My pearls are turning red.
Diamonds crumble when no one weds.
Scarlet Dove feathers are plucked for beds.
When there are rumors of war and dread.
The streetlights are burning red.
Water pipes are lined with crimson lead.
The yeast has ceased to rise in our bread.
When there’s talk of war and dread.
The Sun is setting into a fiery red.
The air is stagnant and without breath.
Wild animals starve and have not fed.
When there’s fear of war and dread.
The Book is lost and rarely read.
Eyeless faces with hairless heads
staked on pikes and left for dead.
During times of war and dread.
Copyright © Benjamin Bartley | Year Posted 2024
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