WAR Poem: Lone Cries in Night War’s Storm , by Kurt Freund

Tears trickle life grey
one drip teasing time.
The days end
hope drains amber and gold
out of the backlight blue battling black.

The dimming moon fades
behind onyx invading horizons.
Hushing roll of rain
begins lightly crying on sunset leaves.
Soon a storm
will cleanse more than the trees.

The sky closes tight
echoing deep thunder
scurrying the shadow wolves
like forest squirrels.
Societal storms are seething to exist
crumbling wisdom into the wild darkening.

Teeth bite
lightning shatters the mountain’s hush.
Cracks of white
shouts between silence’s screams
tremoring crimson rivers flow under
bruised and battered twilight.

Shelter sought under
what is now nothing.
Distant starless howls
call to arms an anemic fight.
Cultures standing for centuries fall
gnarled roots give way.
Rinsed of riches
war’s worthless rivers rise.

Ripped raw
debris flows distractions
down on them all.

Falling to the sky
last breaths mist fog
on forgotten ground.
Morning mercy moans misery’s pain.
Blades of green sanctuary
catch hues of dripping morning sun.

Dawn’s wind whispers
the wishes of warmth
for war-soaked steps.
Ageless, bothered branches
intertwine a haven
under emerald fluttering leaves.

Daybreak suffocates
in sunlight’s sparkling
cradle of contentious canopies.
Terror’s tempest torments
long after dark squalls sleep.

Freshly washed from last night’s storm
shaking off the despair.
A furry face shimmers a gaze
inviting life from torrential nightmares.
Traveled paws teasing tenacious time
a tail sways freedom from tears.

Daylight no longer hears
howling in war’s night storm.
Lone’s wolf eyes are gently looking for
the hues of life after dictated disasters
calm.