One world to foster with no haste
10 August 2024
Shrill like the screech of dying birds
you talk with such sorrow in words
watching sadly the blinded herds
there is no mercy in their hearts
A tale of hatred spun in waves
like beasts erupting from their caves
on a grieving Earth that none saves
blood shed only one colour: red
Energy precious not to waste
On the tip of my tongue I taste
One world to foster with no haste
Together we are so much more
Reading of the poem:
Written in the context of Ronovanwrites challenge in Ovi poetry using as inspiration the word “haste”. For more contributions and to see the rules, follow this link
Cafe Del Mar - Vargo - Talking One Language
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