“Roads to nowhere”

By 29th June 2009December 9th, 2019No Comments

In the shadow of black chimneys
they stumble,
wrapped in funeral rags
drowning in oceans of
Millions lost,
in lost instants
to the senseless
which they say
cannot happen again;
yet continues
in a myriad
bulletins from any number
of hell-holes
bereft of civilisation,
stripped of hope.
The reign of the
the march
of the idiots,
prayers that fall upon
deafened ears.
I look back constantly,
there can be no
looking forward
when the past is wrapped
in steel wire,
stretched across blistered
The future is lost
a winding road
to nowhere,
souls wander
seeking peace
amidst the fading stars.

Mark Dron

Author Mark Dron

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