Nomad Writer

Sometimes it’s all too quick
The way life whirls in a blur
A kaleidoscope spinning out of control
Carried on a cheetah’s back
In bursts of chaotic speed
Only winding down
For a gasp of calm
Rattled by frenetic gales
Shoving the world back into a frenzy;
Earthquakes
Riots
Carnage
Frustration and grief
Rent the air
Shattering the sun
In splinters of red
We’ve had enough!
We want it to end!
When will it end?
Our throats bled raw
Chords snapped and frayed
In sorrow and despair
Until there are no more tears
Left to cry
The doves
Are nowhere to be found
The olive branches
Have withered to brittle twigs
And all that’s left
Are the carcasses of hope
Rotting at our feet