When the Guns Go Silent

God cannot intervene in sovereignty and the boy will plead no innocence. Seedlings cannot control the wind, in birth the Oak has called their name a command from the forest unseen. A biblical sandstorm unleashed by unworthy souls Will scatter this seed that a millennium of kings could not see. Time demands the old to look away For Medusa’s face will give the peace. Hope now resides in young men’s eyes and the currency at stake is dreams. These are the orders of man. As the desert celebrates the rain with life and the Eskimo gives reverence to flesh. That is the natural dignity of things It was this harmony that created the ark, a speck of light in the darkness that gives meaning to the stars above. But war is the Cancer unseen flowing in the veins of weeds with mortal power. Weeds whose future is locked in vaults unseen hypnotised by the allure of possession hiding their gluttony in papers power. A confession that only the executor will see. The poor will be tried in combat, existence will see them fall. To defend history with mothers child, and use our great Cities to forge the end with steel and bullet. All bought with Slaver’s wealth and empire. Actions that will tempt the heavens with sparks that ricochet off the anvil of God. So even the lost alien observer will feel this pain of mankind. These seedlings cropped by lawnmowers damned Scything through the spirit of man. And perhaps the crying mother will find comfort that the greed that underpins all wars, will see this Judas priest . This paper with devils desire that feeds a global asylum, in cubicles of generic concrete waiting for the illusive pension from life. Will find the ark that prophets seek. A truth that transcends all religion. Heaven declines your currency wealth is a mortal thing your fee is to the earth and that is the remembrance of you. The cry of the swift gives Gods speed to assassins flight. A mirage of summer that avoids the artists brush. Natures fly has devoured this sin of man and sacrifice is given, to the voyagers of the sky converting the souls of men to flight. And perhaps in this act , humanity will find redemption. And the boys that died unseen will finally see the beauty of creation, high above the pain below. Screaming on the wings of freedom A truth reserved for God and a dead boy’s dream.