Flames of passion beat in their hearts.
As flames of hate light the cart.
Youths in grey with sticks and stones.
Police in black dart to avoid their tombstones.
A hail of bullets cuts through the air.
A cheer goes up for his final prayer.
Humanity lies so cold and limp.
Torn down by a bunch of wimps.
A riot born from hatred and fear.
A chill of death is not so mere.
Riot over a bonfire, clever I think not.
As your victims are left to rot.
YOU ARE READING
Nightfall - A lifetime in self isolation
PoetryHave you ever felt alone? Nightfall takes the ever darkening thoughts of a lonely student trapped in a warring community and turns them into poetry. My thoughts laid out for you.
