there were feilds of carnations here once <br />pink, orange, gold buds <br />bobbing prettily in the cool breeze <br />there were birds of vibrant hues <br />chirping songs of sweet lithe melodies.. <br />now, there are no carnation heads <br />just grey jagged unnamed stones <br />no birds, no songs, just laments <br />and distant booms of terror and bombs <br />no hand left to lovingly carve <br />names or epitaphs upon dead stone <br />no names even conceived yet <br />for those birthed to be doomed <br />no seperate graves to mourne those <br />who breathed longer than their wombs <br />O Humanity there is no way to grieve <br />befitting a holocaust this cruel <br />O Murderers of the human soul <br />at least these martyrs <br />in the earth are cloaked <br />You i fear the earth too will scorn... <br />No room be for your carcasses repose! ! ! !<br /><br />wardha jawdat<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fields-of-stone-2/
