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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.

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