AND RAINDROPS KISS THE GENTLE BROW
An arm, outstretched, a hand, unclenched,
Uncaring of the rain;
Broken smile and broken heart
From a child's world depart,
Impersonally slain.
And men will kill and always kill,
The reasons are the same:
I have a rod, a rock, a gun,
And you have none, or smaller one,
So I will kill -- I've grievance plain:
You caused me pain
Or took what's mine
Or should be mine if there's a god,
And God's a pal.
Why matters not, once deed is done --
It's who has won and who has won,
Until the one who won's undone
And lies in wind and rain.
And gentle eyes, quite sightless now,
Reflect the heaven's gray.
And raindrops kiss a lock of hair
Sweet streaming hair, of one not there,
Impersonally slain.
---Kirk
Rense |
