Your Poetry Dot Com - Satanic Seed

Array ( [sid] => 184645 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Satanic Seed [time] => 2017-11-22 08:50:18 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Satanic Seed
with a gushing wind came drifting
this sinful satanic seed called hate,
rooted deep, only to grow
into a dark tendril that swallowed up
frail hearts with its firm entangling grip.

Bearing torches of hate marched men,
to annihilate the others of color,
faith and origin; while in bloodshed, thrived
evilly, this dark tendril, a thousand-fold.
Along came my birdy chum,
the Red-vented-bulbul, ironically perched
on a thorny twig; twitting aloud,
with his usual humor.

“O’ man O’ man…” He nagged;
“may it be white, black, brown, Imam,
or preacher of faith;
divisive supreme-commander or it be
fanatic primo minster, of the old world
will one day be buried in dirt,
beside the other he despised…

…Grass of time, shall cover your grave,
once so “Brave” turn to dust
that get blown by another
gushing wind into a heap of dirt…”
…Where children of tomorrow shall play,
sing Grace, and the anthem of LOVE!”
©FRANCO
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 144 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Franco [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Satanic Seed

Satanic Seed
Date: Wednesday, 22nd November 2017 @ 08:50:18 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Franco

Satanic Seed
with a gushing wind came drifting
this sinful satanic seed called hate,
rooted deep, only to grow
into a dark tendril that swallowed up
frail hearts with its firm entangling grip.

Bearing torches of hate marched men,
to annihilate the others of color,
faith and origin; while in bloodshed, thrived
evilly, this dark tendril, a thousand-fold.
Along came my birdy chum,
the Red-vented-bulbul, ironically perched
on a thorny twig; twitting aloud,
with his usual humor.

“O’ man O’ man…” He nagged;
“may it be white, black, brown, Imam,
or preacher of faith;
divisive supreme-commander or it be
fanatic primo minster, of the old world
will one day be buried in dirt,
beside the other he despised…

…Grass of time, shall cover your grave,
once so “Brave” turn to dust
that get blown by another
gushing wind into a heap of dirt…”
…Where children of tomorrow shall play,
sing Grace, and the anthem of LOVE!”
©FRANCO

This poem is Copyright Â© Franco

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