The Beastly Man of War

 

The Beastly Man of War

Yet another, rural town, in east Ukraine, now in sadness dwells

The civilians, have really suffered, and been subjected, to living hell

The raging fires, have finally passed, the marauding Orcs, have left,

Leaving haunting memories, in their wake, and the town bereft.

It is a miserable place, with smouldering piles, of unsightly rubble,

With unpleasant signs, and offensive smells, of the restless struggle.

Many people gone, poor tortured souls, have left their pain behind,

No more torment, as they lie face down, bound, where they died.

Lots lying, in unmarked graves, before the Orcs, made their retreat,

Leaving burnt-out tanks, and armoured trucks, blocking the streets.

Where homes, once proudly stood, amidst the joy, that filled the air,

Now wisps, of acrid smoke, like homeless ghosts, silently wafting there.

A wall defiantly stands, with a picture of her, hanging on a skew,

The mother standing by, sadly mourning, the lovely girl she knew.

The sky is dark, the birds have vanished, with their welcome song,

Instead, the siren calls again, it loudly cries, for all, to move along.

Warning the survivors, of incoming missiles, and imminent trouble,

Past the bodies, of their loved ones, still lying beneath, piles of rubble.

Past the derelict schools, hospitals, and playgrounds, all blown apart,

As the fearful people, retreat again, carrying their burdened hearts.

Into the dark underground cellars, hopefully well out of harm’s way,

Where at night, they wonder why, he stole their dreams away?