Hollow Cost of History

I once dreamed about an angel, within the forest’s flickering light.

Dancing to sacred music – It was a most surreal, calming sight.

Until he mimed at me to stop, and to change my theme.

Causing dark, mysterious clouds to form, erasing every sunbeam.

He beckoned me over to whisper solemn words,

About some eagles, and vultures, that were menacing captive birds.

Moving them around, to attack them further, to prevent their flying away,

Aiming to destroy them and steal their nests, without having to pay.

But the eagle did see me, and started to say . . .

“Why did you look upon this place to dream, where all religions meet,

To see innocent families die, wrapped and buried in plain, white sheets.

To witness men, women and children, suffer and weep,

To make known we are complicit in wars, that keep this world from peace.”

The angel shouted angrily at the vultures, now building houses on captured land.

“Tomorrow, there will be more innocents who will die by your eager hand,

On this, their own land, where they were murdered for nought,

Because ancient stories, claiming their land as yours, are old, and unfairly sought.”

The angel approached me sadly, as I shielded my eyes from the bloodied ground.

Knowing that I was acting like many others, who look, without making a sound.

Raising his fist up to the sky, he reached out in hope to me,

Saying, “I will tell you now, what I know, and so written, what will come to be.”

“The isolated eagles, diseased from within their neglected nests,

Will be made destitute by the cunning vultures; no more are they wanted guests.

Both hated, for their using and supplying of the resources to prolong the war.

They will face accountability and punishment, for breaking international law.

The once captive birds will walk free on their own land. From the ashes they will rise.

They will teach their young for generations, about the vultures’ actions and lies.

Promoting truth and kindness as the only way to think and abide.

Proven when with no food, drink or shelter; they endured attempted genocide.”