Poem – Page 37 – A (wise) man of two faces

Into that long night

Ere the midnight creeps on by,
ere the storm comes blowing by,
ere my dreams traverse the sky,

ere exhaustion shuts my eye.

They say I will fail,
that I’ll amount to nothing…
I will prove them wrong.

Today it seems like
this world is too bleak and lost –
God can’t stop crying.

I hate the color of your skin,
and the contours of your face.
My God calls them a sin,
and my pride, a disgrace.

You murdered my brother;
you’ll reap the whirlwinds.
I’ll take away your father,
your family, and friends.

I’ll find those you hold dear,
and set them all ablaze,
and the last thing they will hear
is me laughing through the haze.

And finally, for my own mirth,
I’ll even salt the very earth.

To never grow old…
wouldn’t that be a wonder?
Endless summer days.

Thunder, thunder,
raining down.
The smithy’s hammer
and burning forge
shaping iron
into blades
into mail
into war.

Thunder, thunder,
raining down.
The fact’ry hammers
and fact’ry workers
shaping steel
into ships
into tanks
into war.

Thunder, thunder,
raining down.
The assembly line
and machinery
shaping plastic
into chips
into bombs
into death.