Halloween poem #2 – mankind has the worse monsters and is seldom as kind as we might be if only we could.

Blood On Our Hands
by Michael Romani

Our brutalities serve to shape us
Though we wish to deny this as it was
There in the something denied as we stir
And our memories make us into a monster

The asylum doctor seeks to remake us
And somehow fails in that just because
There is no cure to be found in electricity
Inflicted on us as part of a fatal family

There is so little humane in humanity
The belief that there is, is our vanity
As we cling to the edge of our mental abyss
Somehow quite certain that we're better than this

But no water from any sacred river
Can wash away the blood, serving as forgiver
For the worse things we humans do to each other
When we forget that we're sister and brother

The atrocities that we have lived and seen
Take away the dignity of being a human being
We are the worse of monsters so it seems
As it comes to us in fits and nightmarish dreams

Desperate for redemption we seek to atone
But in the end we find each of us is alone
The blood spilled is heavier than those killed
And it takes its toll from even the most strong willed

There is no way to sleep at night
Nothing serves to ever make things right
Then we find no peace in the rising dawn
Only the will to live and push ever on

Does God watch and laugh at His world made
Where they make killers into heroes unafraid?
We have nothing on the creatures of the night
We who walk in shadows tainted by the light

(c) October 2, 2019  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved