I sit here at home, safe and sound.
The sky is blue. The air is clean and crisp.
My past is just a fragmented memory.
Looking at me, you would never know I was a war refugee. I was one of the lucky ones.
They sit in the dark, grasping for a semblance of normal life. Their sky burns red. The air is cloudy, laced with smoke. The distinct whirling, ringing sounds of missiles can be heard. A sound that will never be forgotten.
A Mother holds her daughters hand, wishing for peace. A father prepares to protect his family at any cost. They dream of a world where old men's wars are no longer fought; put to rest after hundreds of years of blood shed. They dream of a world where humans are not so divided.
In this tragic world though, blood always wants blood.
But I sit here at home, now safe and sound.
My eyes wide open. I am still seeing their faces. I can feel their lives crumbling, shattering to pieces. Every blue sky, every breath of fresh air, reminds me of what they do not have.
I sit here at home, safe and sound. I look around me,
And no one cares.
YOU ARE READING
Reckoning
PoetryPoetry & Prose • Book 2 of the Darkness & Light series • Kind of a chaotic, dark work of poetry and prose. Reckoning is the burning down of worlds, the blurring of the lines between darkness and light.
