Friday, March 25, 2011

The Unsuspecting Victim

The sky is gray,
as I glance from the edge
I smell the pin drop violence
I hear screams of their horror and terrified breathing
I see swings where no children play
And I see a graveyard where most lay

Horrifying homes filled with fear
and blood shattered on the street
I hear a child crying
And I see his innocence dying

I see the blood on the walls
I see despair throughout the place
And terror on a child's pale face

This child, as fresh as sin
now, doesn't know how to grin.
He suffers, burned and bruised
He wants to be free,
He looks up the sky,

But the sky is still gray.