Walkin on Air
The Feud
Bow-twangs snap
reverberate through the night,
arrows swish and
slither death in random flight:
none are safe
none can be sheltered
umber colored huts burn
shale roofs crash:
trance-like
demons tear, rip and slash;
children
encumbered with confusion condone
the carnage,
assuming just retribution is to thoroughly atone:
a village haven salutes
unseen tips of pain, loss, and foul play,
history's didactic recurrence
decimates mortals and flay
to coerce for imagined gain…
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The Feud
The Feud