Dooms Day Penmanship

Broken shields and empty cartridges.

Broken spirits of the believers.

A sunny day on the rise?

The lasers of injustice blind our eyes.

Strange ties out of uniform.

Conformed out of sorts, distributed emotions.

Splattered all over.

No easy path.

Corpses on corpses like blankets in refugee camps.

They pile up.

They stack up.

Pyres of humanity to warm up.

It's a chilly morning.

It's an even colder afternoon.

Noon comes too soon.

Darkness overshadows the shadows.

The blood trails sparkle under the full moon.

The fights over.

The wars done.

The soldiers dead.

Gone too soon.

Like any other day.

Hardened skin on the knees, we kneel.

Appeal.

Hands in unison, as the voices are unheard,

Gun shots and raging riots,

But still they pray for the next day.