Sunday Poetry: He Murders

Our poem for this week comes from poet Vivienne Glance.
Source:Poets Union-Vivienne Glance

He murders

He murders words like startled innocents
He cracks a grin like a sloping desert
He pursues an abstraction
He feasts on fearful dreams
He points accusingly across reason
He serves at the table of avarice
He appeals to the lesser part of us
He wins the vote of chaos
He struts in the ruins of civilisation
He drinks the dew of morning tears
He devours the cry of desperation
He whispers the wind of uncertainty
He preaches the litany of occupation
He scratches the sore of hate
He winds up the window against wisdom
He thrashes in the mire of dispossession
He aims at the centre of peace
He embraces the moment of action
He leads the world to watching skies
He jabs at our peaceful sleep
He strides relentlessly towards his purpose
He is the blind man who believes he sees


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