It wasn’t the torrent of hail that fell from the sky, piercing flesh and bone

Nor was it the chilling rain as it numbed all,

filling the floodgates to drown thousands trapped in apathy

The sun razed the fields, setting ablaze acres of land in its fury,

but its heated retaliation was justified given the atrocities that screamed

amplified by the wind that uprooted everyone and everything

Corpses bloated and swelled, rotting away in their feebleness,

unable to halt our footrace to the finish line

even if hell and its brimstone waited patiently to embrace the willing

How many people are sanctified,

How many lives must be lost

Before He feels satisfied,

lullabied by the sounds of tortured prayers and drowned cries of anguish?


Author’s Words for Thought

“God is dead, but given the way of men, there may still be caves for thousands of years in which his shadow will be sown –and we– we still have to vanquish his shadow, ,too.” -Friedrich Nietsche