The Violent Race (Poetry)

The flower crushed beneath the boot
the spark dowsed by the rain
those freedoms stolen — voice unheard
cries blotted out with pain

The box now empty of all hope
and faith an idle dream
this world’s killed every promise made
and hearts grow cold and mean

Love’s been murdered in its sleep
yet it can find no rest
dread has bullied through the door
with hate scrawled on its chest

There’s nothing left worth fighting for
defeat bleeds good men dry
while misery piles at the gate
and none can reason why

Destruction rules and cities burn
in every hand a gun
the poisoned air’s turned foul by smoke
while slowly cools the sun

There’s only one solution that
might stop the violent race
return to Eden — resurrect
a life of simple grace