For those in the know, I have been out of town for a while and as such, I have yet to settle down well enough to cook up any stories in a while.
That as it may be; I, Kane, will always try to meet up with the literary demands of my swift-witted readers. With that in mind, I bring you yet another body of words.
Another poem (of sorts). As always, there is a lesson to learn and there is a twist in the plot. I can’t have you guys lazing up on my watch!
Anyways… Read. Like. Comment. Follow!!!
AN OLD MAN’S VISION
I find no kind words in my thoughts.
I find no peace, just sleepless nights.
I find no refuge from all my hurts.
I find none though I search with all my might.
I see the crying, begging widow.
I see her hungry, sickened son.
I walk the charred plains that was once meadow.
As I sweat beneath the roasting sun.
I yelled and they called me mad.
I moved, yet they bade me stop.
They took from me all I had,
And left me with but one ear of crop.
With so little choice, I cried to the heavens.
I had too few means to fend for myself.
In my own home, I found not one haven,
To hide, lie and mend soul and self.
To my demands, the gods sent one reply.
On a distant hill, I stood and I watched,
As fire and brimstone was rained from the sky.
I watched from the hills as my city got flushed.
A hit to the head and there is blood on my brows.
“Away with him! Away with his curse!!”
I let my blood flow, I’m an old man now.
He spat in disgust, the lord on his horse.
At the city gates, I stopped and turned.
“Listen you fools and you may yet live!”
They laughed at me, I smiled in return.
“Oh you young fools, you should listen to me!”
How it burned that night!!!
The fair city of Gommorah had but three survivors,
A young man from Ur and his two daughters.
In Sodom, I cried for two decades,
In Gommorah, I cried for just one evening.