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"While the sufferings of the poor majority remain unknown to the world, the achievements of the rich minority are trumpeted to all" ~By Poet
The heavens grew darker with rain clouds
The day looked like a misty shroud
Soon rain pelted down, whiplashing
Lightning unleashed its lethal rapier
Brandishing the flaming steel across the skies
Thunder growled and rumbled
Like a giant stamping in rage
Causing vibrations like seismic tremors
Sending fear through every nerve
Men sought shelter in the shade of trees.
Some ran to the shelter of roofs
Sound of wind whistled and boomed
Trees arched and shook, leaves flew about
Unceasingly the sky wept in torrents for days
As the men grumbled on being shut indoors
I heard the plaintive ballad of the homeless
Victims in the hands of an unknown fate
Their sighs fated to die out in their own smoldering hearts.
They live unknown with languishing identity,
To wrestle with the dark unknown
To die unknown and to lie under the sod unknown!
April.17.2023
Writing Challenge ‘U’ Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
Copyright © Valsa George | Year Posted 2023
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