I decided a little while ago to write a series of poems, all with a connecting theme. As a result, here is the second in my series called The Five Horsemen Of The Apocalypse. I hope to get them published in the future.
Summer by winter is slain.
Warmth by frost is killed.
Stomachs with hunger are pained.
Thousands of tears are spilled.
All around is silence.
Only frail ghosts can be seen.
Starvation shows death's violence.
He leaves coffins where he's been.
The dead stretched out on the floor.
Empty eyes show nothing.
Young screaming and crying for more.
Children left in suffering.
Fear written on their sunken face.
Inside is an empty ache.
Death moves with such fine grace;
A perfect demise he will make.
Words within their begging eyes.
No translation you'll ever need.
And to this day their voices rise,
And their hearts inside will bleed
