I dream of those stumps

I have heard the vile rotten tripe,
Convoluted reasoning spewed,
Seen the decimation of humanity.
Hands do not wave above the arms,
They are only bloodied stumps,
What is left, the machetes work.
The President of Sudan speaks,
A sweaty bloated brow on TV,
He says: “There is no trouble here.”
His greed compounds the lie,
Savagery is the terrible coin paid,
His words the bitter gall of deceit.
The world watches, fascinated,
Tsk, tsk, how sad!
These people have nothing we want.
What price a human soul?
Not the drought forsaken Darfur sand,
Fleas upon the ground these humans.
Leaders debate, cajole each other,
Sell arms, machetes, live in comfort,
The devil spawn is in control.
The severed hands desiccated,
Once they held babies, each other.
The earth consumes the blood seed.
Evil faces cross the parched ground,
Invoking their god’s name,
In the name of religion,
Their proselytizing murder
Opens the great maw of hell.
As the innocent wither and die,
Creation is lessened and humanity
Moans for a redeemer, a savior,
But there is none, there never will be.
A union of greed and religious zeal
The hearts of all nations unforgiven.
They have circled their wagons against truth,
Mighty nations have forgotten responsibility
Their people have become the Godless .

© 2011, Donald Harbour

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