Iridescent Anticipation By Rania M M Watts

The elements of war,
strife of one
who has suffered
at the hands
of ensconced
Tragedy leads
to crimson hues,
there is no human
dignity – it’s released
into a Sarlacc Pit
of injustice,
lack lustre demise,
and sardonic
How do you
think you would
feel in the underbelly
of a metallic screeched
Eyes close
and squint, while
   Dorothy repeats:
        “there’s no place
 like home.”
Sounds so cliché
to believe hope
exists for anyone
 — this is not a simple
Bombs going off
over head on a long drive
through Syria to escape civil war.
I don’t understand!
I don’t understand!
I don’t understand!
Why is annihilation necessary?
There exists illumination
etched in the visibility of air
and auditory of thought.
A guided hand scribes
on word “hope.”
This piece was inspired by Unbroken, by Kevin Zoldan & Bax. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: