By Jason Mel Waka
An Entry in the Poetry Award
Once upon the West, the sun now sets
Moon rays cold with dew.
Her sun sets at dawn and rises at dusk.
Deep in caverns she cuddles with less sleep.
Fires don’t burn, she snuggles each for warmth.
Her perception to mere darkness,
Only ears intent.
In dark and dark pursuit, feathers tweet God’s peace. Surely linger.
When sunrays sparkle, lips curve, her heart serene. Empty dreams.
Sparking fires so huge crumble mounts.
Scars needn’t, her light shun to darkness.
Gunfire echoes merry songs, dirges to her.
Slain sons for earth before fathers bury.
Pursue afterlife to chastise the titans.
Shrieking sounds groom fears.
Fear turns to weapon. Rumours are real.
Lie in Stonehenge bed contemplating.
Solely to find ways to win.
Wailing cries continue, tears run deep.
Knowing she wittingly have drawn both peace preferment from anger.
The only name whereof is so irksome in her line…
Baleful so many mental virtues found freedom.
For it is God’s Country!