Serpents in the Healer

He spoke with eyes rolled back
into his native skins
and as the words rolled off
his forgien tongue
they punctuated an atmosphere
of bitter mourning,
but hands held over eyes
could not disguise
the unexpected death.

The freedom bringers
stood round helplessly,
hopelessly,
to look into the face
of human destruction
and as the heads bowed
the hearts turned away
in bloody shame.

A mark was made permanent
on virgin life
as small hands had grasped
an artificial light
only to find death
lurking in its shadow,
a war against lies
spinning out of control
as the bombs fall
on the school houses
as the mines give away
your hiding spot.

Serpents in the healer
arouse an ugly head of revenge,
for tomorrow was killed today
and yesterday has said
its goodbyes, while now
stands tall and bullet riddled
and with the voices of millions
proclaims a devasting prophecy
of an eye for an eye.