warRANT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the ack-ack-ack

of sobbing children

a tear

for every bullet

the roll of pressure

heal to toe

erasing limbs

flies swarming on open wounds

picking at the scabs

of wounded families

the searing pain

of widows and orphans

scorched flesh

hurt is local currency

guns from foreign currency

all around the colour red

lies in sticky

coagulating puddles

a glassy eyed guerrilla

sprays hate from a hired gun

a fat man in a suit

scrubs vigorously

to remove the gun grease

from his stubby fingers

a losing battle

rabid spittle froths and foams

from the snapping jaws

of the dogs of war

cemeteries spill their dead

onto bomb cratered streets

the stench of death hangs in the air

and swirls with clouds

of unsettled dust

revealing ghosts

bleached bones

cracked skulls

a white flag

flutters in the breeze

tattered and torn

small hands

clenched in prayers

over dead parents

welcome

to

hell