River Of Broken Hearts

River Of Broken Hearts
© Surazeus
2018 02 17

I walk by the river of burning eyes
where the blood of children killed by guns flows,
and tumble away into empty skies
where their mothers and fathers weep in snows.

The sheriff who once ruled the desert town
plays guitar on the stage of skeletons
who dance on the grave of the fallen clown
because we are formed from star elements.

I walk by the river of laughing skulls
where the blood of children shot by guns burns,
and stumble into the church of blind fools
who worship the god who never returns.

The shaman who once spelled the broken world
plays guitar on the pyramid of ghosts
who know where the demon of despair whirled
laughing at the blinded king who still boasts.

I walk by the river of howling souls
where the blood of children killed by guns flames,
and ramble mumbling without noble goals
while ghosts of dead children seek their lost names.

The joker who once deceived loyal fools
plays guitar in the temple of fake gods
and chases screaming children from safe schools
while the politician of greed applauds.

I walk by the river of weeping moms
where the blood of children shot by guns swirls,
while angry dads shoot each other with bombs
that blast to hell gardens of boys and girls.

The angel who once brought the book of truth
howls in bloody streets of America
while the king of lies hides from honest sleuth
who decodes love with esoterica.

I walk by the river of broken hearts
where the blood of children killed by guns boils,
so I map their stories on secret charts
that reveal how our brains are wound with coils.

The wizard who once revealed atom power
forged magic wands that fire bullets of hate
so lovers who once shared the marriage flower
weep at the blasts of guns that twist our fate.