deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Holy Land ...

A land soaked in red,  
innocence lost to the storm,  
peace choked by the blind.  
 
Beneath this scorched sky,  
young blood seeps into dry earth,  
grief roots like a wild thorn.  
 
Fears creep, voices fade,  
swept by the biting winds' call,  
hope turn  drifting dust.  
 
Who's right, who's wrong—will  
that matter much when all's gone?  
Just silence screams left.
Written by MalcolmG (Malcolm Gladwin)
Published | Edited 11th Nov 2024
Author's Note
Copyright MalcolmG
November 2024
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0 reading list entries 0
comments 0 reads 35
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:01am by SweetKittyCat5
WORKSHOP
Today 1:52am by TomBaxter
POETRY
Today 1:50am by TomBaxter
POETRY
Today 1:43am by Kinkpoet
SPEAKEASY
Today 00:19am by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 00:18am by Ahavati