Home: Poetry: Chris A Parker : We Are The War

This life it burns like a perpetual torch

With death's dark shadow upon my porch

Nightmares pass and I'm dying in mud

The cities have sunk, I survived the flood

Crippled by crimes, no longer the hope

Of people's dreams who could not cope

Winning the wars, beating the foe

Does it all really matter, how could we know?

But I will not sit and ponder why

We brought ourselves to the edge of the sky

And the eyes of children will no more cry

Of all my prayers, don't let them die


All copyrights are acknowledged and those remain the property of the owners. Also these pages contain my opinions (unless otherwise specified), and thus, does not reflect the beliefs of others. The Garden of the Black Rose and its related pages are copyrighted (c)1998 by Ivy McKnight .