Vacant Eyes

Vacant Eyes
© Surazeus
2018 01 31

Bombs explode like flowers from fractured skulls
of soldiers who will never return home
where wives cook and children play hide and seek
while seeds of fruit trees drink the rain of tears.

Wings twisted and torn off thin fractured bones
blind angels behind electric barbed wire
huddle shivering naked in bitter wind
and trudge moaning, feet bleeding from ice shards.

The gentle doctor carries frail young girl
in trembling arms and feeds her sweet warm milk,
then covers her with warm blanket of love,
humming while he caresses her thin arm.

Forty years later the doctor, grown old,
stares beyond cavernous abyss of death
and weeps while clutching hand of his grandson
at shocking memory of her vacant eyes.

They herded millions of people in camps,
attempting to exterminate their race
by feeding them horror with numb despair,
and burned their bodies in ovens of hate.

The skulls of innocent people destroyed
by greed of tyrants who wear business suits
bulge high in mountains of horrified eyes
which howl wordless through busy city streets.

Since I returned home from bloody world war
I worked many years healing broken souls
but my own soul was broken by despair
when I saw millions of people destroyed.

I stare in vacant eyes of that young girl
and feel the conscious souls of millions lost
in sucking vortex of death that devours
everyone, crushing us all into dust.