Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

An ancient wind caresses the city
it feeds the shadows of death
the dust of blood scuttles before it
sparkling in the evening sun
it slips past the terrible reality of humanity
scattering the prayers of the helpless
only the low moan in the hollow doorways
answering
the city has no tears
no forgiving God watches over
the wind of Aleppo will haunt your dreams
it will come past your door
a whispered empty breath
death settles in the oblivion of a helpless world
this old poet has no shadow now
I see the children
they call to you
but you can not answer

That seems like edvard Munich s " scream painting" ahhhh powerlessness
Motley crew those voices talking smack
Tell them you have no time for this attack
Really I know that darkness can be slow in leaving
Tell the shadowed to leave your home
There are better places to roam