The Sunrise

 

The Sunrise

When will Russia see the sun rise, through all the mist and fog again,

In smog, their minds eclipsed, entrenched within the people’s brain.

The weight of which, has burden placed, a syndrome badly broken,

Blinded by the haze, that has encased all reason, now seldom woken.

Devouring thought, of better times, their souls in apathy, firmly stuck,

Unable to see, beyond the disinformation, with reality masked in muck.

Forced to dream, the same dream, all alternate thought lost, or taken,

Sent off to prison, to repent, to be badly beaten, and soundly shaken.

The awful torture, a breeding ground for fear, reinforcing a precedent,

Designed to eradicate, contemplation of hope, from other minds rent.

As the cloak of confusion, continues to close in, bringing darker times,

Within the depressing shroud of sadness, where the sun never shines.

Beyond the tunnel of obscurity, there is an end, where all the broken go,

There consumed by insanity, writhing around in pain, dying very slow.

In another war, that should never have been, for another broken cause,

For another one who brought madness, a man unable to show remorse.

To spend the rest of time, amongst other spirits, tormented with pain,

Lost in eternity, in total darkness, never to see the sun rise, ever again.

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (April 2024)