To Live in Paradise Lost

 

To Live in Paradise Lost

Verse 1.

Set in our dreams, there is a place, green for as far, as the eye can see,

Like in a garden of paradise, mossy paths, pink blossom on the trees.

A warm enchanted place, where natures best, steals our breath away,

With delicate wildflowers, creating a beautiful blush, in vibrant array.

Their soft sweet perfume, gently floating, creating intoxicating smells,

Like the scent, of Lily-of-the-valley, hanging out, its lovely little bells.

And aromatic lavender, that grows in shades of blue, purple, and pink,

At its best, on warm summers days, set to make us stop, and think.

The fruity strawberry scent of the freesia, fit for a beautiful bouquet,

Fragrant heads of hyacinth and jasmine, the stars, that grace the day.

With vibrant climbers, wisteria, and honeysuckle, hanging on a vine,

Powerful scents wafting, reminding us, the warmth of summertime.

Warm spicy smells of viburnums, stargazer lily, daphne and peonies,

A lovely place, frequented by beautiful butterflies, and the busy bees.

With sensual smells, the fragrant rose, a fond favorite for valentines,

Its blush of beautiful colors, set with grapes, at the ends, of the vines.

Night jasmine, ginger lily, and hoya, bound to set evening ardor alight,

With their intoxicating fragrances, wafting on the peaceful air of night.

Verse 2.

Alas! Dawn arrives, the people’s dreams shattered, into drowsy debris,

As they face the world of war, the rain of iron, in coldblooded reality.

The vibrant colors gone, the garden converted to awful shades of grey,

The madness of mankind, carrying on once again, cast in the light of day.

Amidst the smoke, the battle raging on, the ground all littered in shells,

As Satan sends ballistic missiles, into cities, where there are no parallels.

From the land of orcs, where freedoms thoughts, are all set out of sync,

With soldier and civilian lives, unwritten each day, inscribed in red ink.

And the deafening sound, of rounds, and mortar, set amongst the fray,

As Putin’s unwitting cannon fodder, is fed into the grinders, every day.

The bite of steel, awful leg wounds, sending cold shivers up the spine,

Showers of hate let loose, in spiteful rage, from fearsome large carbine.

Taking shelter in trenches and foxholes, fighting to set the mind at ease,

In summer sweltering heat, in winter, plummeting below zero degrees.

Russian soldiers lying wounded, right where they fell, amidst the mines,

Left behind, slowly bleeding out, never to answer, for their brutal crimes.

Where are the generals? They do not care about the poor soldier’s plight,

They feel no pain, or fatigue, with strength spent, soldiers too tired to fight!

Verse 3.

In Xanadu, heavenly paradise, the sun always shining, there I love to be,

And the people live in happiness, without restraint, tis the land of the free.

No taxing thought, minds set to wander, free from constraint, left to play,

No pressure, or stress, with plenty of time, to take peaceful naps midday.

Where dreams dwell, within the sweet scents, that weave magic spells,

The taste of flowers and fruit divine, or succor sweet honey from its cells.

The people living in unity and accord, with peace and harmony in sync,

With positive vibes, and serenity, both in accord, like two skaters in a rink.

Gracefully floating, like a pair of swans, as they seamlessly drift and sway,

Two young lovers, lost together, within their fantasy dream, to forever stay.

The heaven-sent pleasure, caught in endless content, living on cloud nine,

As days and weeks merge, together in sweet harmony, no matter the time.

Utopia set in a parallel world, with kindly people there, doing as they please,

Celestial blue skies, with white fluffy clouds, gracefully floating on the breeze.

The abundant ambience, the wonderland, a salmagundi of heaven-sent signs,

Where people give thanks, as they really appreciate, and cherish the times.

At days end, after another spectacular display, the soft pastel colors of light,

Welcoming another peaceful evening of sleep, a full moon sailing into sight.

Verse 4.

Over there woken, from their dreams, cast back into in deaths dreadful misery,

As bad fights good, where freedom will eventually win, it is a fait accompli.

In terrible battles to survive, the genocide, and overcome the evil on its way,

Ukraine, hopefully waiting, believing that the West will unite, to save the day.

Returning the land, and rescuing the innocent people, from their living hell,

To defeat the grotesque regime, and the one who weaves his wicked spells.

While the nasty orcs who took toilet bowls, fridges, and even kitchen sinks,

Stole tiny children, from their distraught parents, creating many broken links.

Then raping and torturing, and performing appalling acts, upon their prey,

Breaking all the rules of war, laying waste, to anything standing Puzin’s way.

Creating a wicked nightmare inverted, in the light of day, the awful crimes,

Boobytrapping playgrounds and buildings, covering the countryside in mines.

As hysterical mothers begged, for their kidnapped children, on bended knees,

The mindless extermination, and devastation spread, like a terrible disease,

With the bones of dead zombies left lying where, they committed the crimes

And mass graves that were dug, hidden in the forests, of spruce and pines.

As the land of Mordor struggled to grow, its people suffering from the blight,

With each battle lost, more madness created, languishing in malignant spite.

Verse 5.

In broken thought, and restless slumber kept, each night I tossed and turned,

While seventeen thousand kilometers away, Ukraine’s towns and cities burned.

My dreams of Xanadu, my flight of imagination passed, my fantasy went astray,

Now consumed with fearsome thoughts, for the poor little children, so far away.

I saw the awful images televised around the world, I felt the grief, I felt the pain,

The utter horror, on people’s faces, I felt the terror, and distress, over and again.

Thousands of empty eyes, their vacant stares, at train stations full of evacuees,

The bombed-out homes and hospitals, long borderlines of desperate refugees.

Apartment blocks with gaping holes, and rubble piles, large craters in the streets,

Dead bodies littering the roads, human remains lying under black plastic sheets.

Frightened infants taking refuge, in underground bunkers, and subway stations,

Hordes of rockets and missiles raining down, shaking the concrete foundations.

Air raid sirens screaming, petrified people running, desperately seeking refuge,

Fire crews and aid workers, rescuing trapped and injured people, in the deluge.

The shocking sights found in makeshift torture cells, the morbid scenes televised,

Battle tanks rolling down city streets, wrecked cars blown to bits and pulverized.

Fleeing cars sprayed in machine gun fire, the poor people did not stand a chance,

As the Ukrainian army, desperately fought the invaders, to stem their advance.

Verse 6.

Gone the urge for peaceful dreams, to summon the return, to my Xanadu lost,

With Russia’s war raging on, Ukraine writhing in death, suffering a holocaust.

Living under the constant threat, of bombs and missiles, wherein they dwell!

And the evil despot, who turned their lives upside down, and into living hell.

The peril of the innocent people, wrenched from the peaceful lives they lead,

Into the maelstrom of heartbreak, and catastrophe, as they mourn their dead.

In the mindless repetition, of a war, that should be fought, on battle grounds,

Instead, the evil battles, have been waged, on civilians, in their peaceful towns.

In misery and pain, the turmoil and tragedy, by theses wicked tyrants wrought,

The throng of iniquitous Orcs, the heartless beasts, their senseless evil brought.

Their mindless savage acts, mechanically repeated, over, and again, on Ukraine,

Upon the land, committing heinous crimes, while they leave their bloody stains.

Consumed with empathy, for the innocent people, compassion turned to hate,

To destroy the Orcs, and all who followed, in their sinful cults, wicked mandate.

The ones who gave the nasty orders, to bomb cities, where innocent people live,

The ones who sold their souls to Satan, the ones that God will never forgive.

My heart has turned towards the meek, for they shall inherit the awful pain,

Glory to the unsung heroes, brave little buds, the innocent kids who remain.

 

As we take a knee, in unity we salute! Slava Ukraini!

Yunykh Heroyiv Ukrayiny The children of Ukraine!

Slava Ukraini! Heroyam Slava!

Written By: Alan Clark@WW1POET (July 2023)