Poem+JM

Swirling Dust By Jessi Maw Everything is death and drought and pain and tears Home is gone and sorrows abound As we hide from death in a barren plane Hidden in the swirling dust

Screams of the living compounded upon By the moans of the dead Their blood coloring the air A macabre Childs painting

As explosions predict mass graves And whistles foretell death Silence is all you’ll ever hear Amidst the swirling dust

Survival is no longer a game Played in happy peaceful times past Where one could come back from Bullets and bombs and ripping shrapnel

They say we cannot go home We still need to fight They hide from you the truth Of what is in the swirling dust.