Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

The Mortal Holocaust

Babies they would drown in the lake
While slitting the elderly's throats.

I'd turn around, squeamish at the extermination.

My stomach turned on me.
Thick sludge eructed from my mouth
And splattered on the large rocks before me.

I walked the line with the other drones,
Certain of my fate including a bitter
Death or torture at the hands of my captors.

They threw us in cages,
Dangled us over the damned.

The screams were the worst.
They came from all over.
Children. Men. Women. Angels and demons alike.

Where was god?
I'd heard King Lucifer had fallen as well.
Yet the mutilation continued.

It's so quiet on this side of hell.
We don't sleep anymore,
It's a thing of the past.
We wait.

And what we're waiting for is a release.

We see the new victims come in every day,
Paraded around like some mortal holocaust.
Some are raped, some are beaten,
Others are cast aside for slavery.
Those lucky bastards.

Had I stayed hidden, this poison
Wouldn't be eating away at me.

In life, only death is certain.
But not anymore.

3-1-10


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
The Mortal Holocaust

378,239 Poems Read

Sponsors