The Flight Of Innocence

......................

He woke up in Golgotha today.
Where severed heads lay smiling.
On the crimson bed below.

Where Death smiles a wry smile
to Himself each day.
And angels have pricked out
their own eyes.

Where the rocks have lost count
of the heroes who bled to their deaths.
But not of the cowardly villains;
Who returned unscathed.
To their lovers' arms.

Where many a pretty face
has been crushed by black stones;
Black stones in black hands.
Which ran out of bullets.

Where a few even died
At the hands of their comrades.
Who couldn't find an enemy to kill.

Where obese vultures feed during the day.
And pen odes to Man in the evenings.

Where the coarse sound of the trumpet.
Heralds a new set of warriors.
Their bloody bodies silhouetted
against a purple sky.

..................

He stood before the bright red
of the setting sun.
And the brighter red of the earth.
He remembered the little white note.
Which had arrived uninvited.
And like a rude guest
Had widowed an adoring wife.
And orphaned an innocent child.

His eyes seemed like they would
scorch the sun.
His breath was heavy.
His fists were clenched.
Vengeance had spread its vile fangs
on every inch of his body.
He was one of them now.