Legacy

 

Death

 

As a nation we shall not forget

Those small people whose black eyes boiled and burst,

Whose flesh hissed in the heat of our artificial sun.

Some flew like scattered sparrows sailing,

Black and too surprised to die

Before their fried skin

Steamed away their consciousness.

It was the angry flame of a god

Bereft of care for humanity

That we wielded to slam finality

On a cruel era, and we failed.

We still hunger after righteous revenge.

Thousands delight each night in flickering shadow murders.

We buttress confidence to dispatch with lesser tools

Those who offend our sensibilities,

But hold god fire in our back pocket

And quail in waiting Thor’s hammer to descend.

 

 

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