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
