A beautiful and lucid angel
playing a golden harp
on an obscure night.
Perched on a trunk of a tree
eyes gently closed.
Smooth and incandescent fingers
she plucks the strings skillfully
with a seductive harmony.
A dreadful dragon of hate and strife
soars and slithers
past the angel.
Keen angry bullets
from gun violence whiz by.
Startling screams of pain and grief.
Impressive and massive shifting
war machines rattle the ground.
Annihilating bombs dropped,
quaking every foundation.
Forlorn blood on the streets.
She cries out for justice
but no one is interested.
She wants to draw a smile
but isn’t capable.
The lovely angel of peace and love
grimaces from pain and sorrow
in her tender heart.
The repressed angel from heaven
puts the harp down and weeps uncontrollably
for having to witness injustice,
callousness of man,
and wickedness on Earth.
