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In the smoke of the bombs


By Tony herlinPublished about a month ago 1 min read
In the smoke of the bombs
Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash

Evening falls on the city, illuminated by its beauty.

A little girl plays in the moonlight.

Pure innocence restores goodness.

The gaze of the powerful that spoils it all.

Suddenly, the sky lights up like stars.

The little girl playing stops, rapt with wonder.

Fireworks, she thinks in her purity.

In her mother's eyes, we see darkness.

A deafening noise of hatred floods them.

Lightning flashes, digging their graves.

Tyrants play on the other side of the world

When man's madness enters the circle.

When silence becomes soothing,

But all his stars are gone.

They ask their god to protect them.

Nothing can justify such heresy.

In the smoke of senseless bombs, they deny.

What God sees just makes him want to cry.

sad poetry

About the Creator

Tony herlin

A dreamer who neither speaks nor writes English, a difficult but highly instructive exercise. (Please accept my apologies for any inconvenience caused).

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