The Children Of War

Like nebula, those soft-spoken eyes are in tear,
and finger-tips ply stars, upheld in silent breach.
Out on the heaven's own outer realms compare,
double the sorrow's near fatal downward reach.

Implore those pearly ramparts, with your ailing,
fill full these skies, with echoes of soul in strain.
Let begin beguiling unravel, sacred in unveiling,
of treaty's keep, untoward tales, reveal the pain.

For children of collateral, in a cross-hair's focal,
have spoken in tongues of silence, on this crime.
While with little hands, paddling on clouds local,
grasp gate's pearly cobble, while angel's whine.

Let the sacrifice cease, man of mercenary arm,
let God beseech on behalf, your soul to teach.
These are your sons and daughters, you storm,
this future you plunder, the names you impeach!

TBollinger