Eve Roper Poet Free verse

War

Rata -tatatat, rata -tatatat, rata -tatatat
the sounds pierce the cold laboring day air.

Around corners and up stairs  they come.
Rata -tatatat, rata -tatatat, rata -tatatat
bullets pierce splintering wood,
and shattering glass, turning the snow red,
as bodies fall.
Off with their heads with a wood ax; 
accurate with every shot, a sniper's success.

5/13/2022

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Jennifer Proxenos May 18, 2022 at 11:31 AM Excellent, so well crafted and created. A sad story of reality my friend in war torn countries! Hugs and blessings, Jennifer.

Victor Buhagiar May 14, 2022 at 3:39 AM Since the fall of man war was ever on man's mind. No end to it.

L Milton Hankins May 13, 2022 at 1:50 PM Indeed, a disturbing word picture of the horrors of war. Along with everything else, war is simply reality...horrifying reality.

Paulette Calasibetta May 13, 2022 at 12:20 PM War is ugly~and you have artfully expressed the images it holds. :)Paulette