Poetry

THE LAST LAMENT

By 4th February 2008December 9th, 2019No Comments

The Heron stands like a sentinel
On the shore of his jade green lake
Watching and waiting for gunfire
And the bloodshed in its wake.

The fish are growing larger
As each day of Death goes by
The carrion crows hover
Watching, from a cold blue; cloudless sky.

The lambs born in the aftermath
Like children being led astray
They bleat like crying babies
Genetic songs of yesterday.

The old dear wrapped in her garb of black
The old man watching the young
Will mans inhumanity only end
When the last lament has been sung.

Derek Blackburn

Author Derek Blackburn

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