shivering nails, <br />black and white coffins whisper. <br />bodies without heads, <br />strewn in the sand. <br />the taste of gunpowder <br />on my lips. <br />i bow, but cannot pray! <br /> <br />the sound of the oil rigs, <br />the coarse rhythm of greed. <br />take and destroy, take and fulfill! <br />the cry of sea life, <br />the gurgling choke, <br />soon to be the children <br />of flaccid men. <br /> <br />buildings like bodies, <br />stripped empty and bare. <br />the memories smell <br />of life that once was. <br />empty, and pulsing, <br />with the want of need, <br />no one hears the ghosts within. <br /> <br />hunger and homelessness, <br />heroin and Jesus. <br />the shelves are bare, <br />the mother's eyes are bleeding. <br />the nameless and unwanted, <br />cast aside in the storm, <br />while ghouls walk amid <br /> <br />the rubble of the lie. <br /> <br />sing for me, pray for me, <br />take my hand, take my hand... <br />even when i close my eyes, <br />i still hear, still feel, <br />the faces of the wind! <br />and god, if there be, <br />in each and every tear!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/epilogue-part-three/
