Slice of Hell

A little slice of hell within
the endless desert's surging wind.
Wailing voices drifting
in the constancy of sin.
Where does one divide
the great vibrations of the soul?

You and I, we've always known each other.
Tender days of play before the gore of bitter
war set in to stay. Now the nights are filled
to overflowing with explosions that defeat
the will of life to just go on.

Can you tell me that you haven't felt it too...?
The hopeless chill within the burning sun.
Hordes of faces, every one an individuality.
What grace of God gives sanction
for the human killing sprees?

Spirits crying out for justice;
answered by the battles - never earned.
The best and worst stand face to face
in each experience that we create.
Soul-fire burning white to try
and wish the win and loss away.

They give until their life is burned away.
Gold medals hanging o'er an open grave.
They can't see the parades from where they lay.
Sacrificial lambs that never had a chance to grow.
Youth that's maimed and withered by the whole.

While powers play with great indifference.
Huddled in the safety of their homes.
Cheering through a screen while all alone.
What good the high ideals when
their souls are squandered, spent?

What example do we set the world now...?
A little slice of hell within
the endless desert's surging wind.
Wailing voices drifting
in the constancy of sin.
How can they divide the great
vibrations of the soul from all they are...?

? Michaelette ?

3/26/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .