Letters from some Friends # 7.



"Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan’t crack;
And death shall have no dominion."

Then you asked me, what purpose
has Death? When all is forgotten and forgiven
and the next atrocities take place?

I think you take Death
too seriously, an easy out
for birds with broken wings
and flowers drooping.
An insult to the brain.
According to the coroner

But for the living, who will remember
Who will shudder through lives long-lived
The reckless voting that made
righting a wrong a blind disaster.
While the wars go on, what Hell
is worse than that? Lucky are the Dead.

Why not the flaming rain,
the snide offer of water
in desert terrain and have them sing
to prisoners so they too may drown
in good conscience.

Escape the Hell fashioned on Earth
as ordered
by their commanders

L. Fullington

If you've any comments on this poem, L. Fullington would be pleased to hear from you.