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    arkmikel  |  poetry
 

SELECTED POEMS

FINDING LOVE IN THE RAIN
THORNS OF A DESERT ROSE
SERAPH OF MY FEBRUARY
THE MERCHANTS OF DEATH
THOUGHTS
YOUR MIND GAMES
SLEEPLESS
LOOSE POEM
TO A WOMAN NAMED JEN
NOVEMBER MORNINGS
IT'S COLD AND I MISS YOU
SPENT SHELLS
THE OLD WOMAN AND THE STORM

poet's commentary - i’ve been aching to write a poem about the on-going war on terrorism. like most people in their sound minds, i am against terrorism and all forms of it. i condemn it whatever cause it may have. but the other side is also part to blame of what is going on. an in-depth analysis of the new world order will reveal that we are within the principle of cause and effect. whether you like it or not we are right in the thick of it. some sowed the seeds of hate a few generations ago and we are now part of the generation that is indirectly reaping its outcome. the opposing forces have their own faults and their acts will never correct the things that they have done both in the past and in the present. it’s like a good cop - bad cop scenario but nevertheless, both represent death and destruction as one entity. it is sad to know that it is their war and we are being dragged into it. there is no doubt that we are destined to become victims in their on-going reciprocity of hate.

 

THE MERCHANTS OF DEATH
by arkmikel

they embody the powerful and the weak
yet, they have minds that are crazy and sick
meet the clandestine shadows of the east
the boastful great warlords of the west

behold the unwelcome death dealer
the silent yet raucous two-in-one killer
the double back riding fourth horseman
the castaways of the human clan

we are in the midst of their fiery surprises
their indiscriminate hits and misses
we are their pawns in their clever games
they will not stop until we are in flames

i will not take sides in this madmen’s chess
both are evil, both are wicked no less
for the same wings that burns the villages
are the same wings that topples the towers

cloaked by religion and illegitimate policies
they teem and merge with us in our cities
they will decide when to stop our breath
no apologies from the merchants of death


Copyright © Michael R. Gracilla - 29th July 2004

    
 

 

 

 

 

Michael R. Gracilla © Copyright 2004. All Rights Reserved     


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