Raid

A dark poem about a raid

All the light is taken away,
Innocence and age has not one say,
Death and destruction is all around,
A thousand more people are piled on the bloody ground.

The people will scream to hear hopeful lies,
Monster's hatred is seen in it's cold, dark eyes,
The horrific screaming echoes through the night,
The bloodbath will never stop, it is such a woeful sight.

The drums of death rattle louder in their head,
No-one took seriously what the oracle had said,
Now they will die, they will suffer, they will pay,
A thousand more bodies, as the light is taken away.

The mothers cry for their newly lost sons,
The few who fight clutch to useless guns,
They can not cease this frightening madness,
They can just lay down to die in this horrid sadness.

There is no hero, in which this tale resides,
There is no white horse on which he, so gallantly, rides,
There is no hope or survival for this brave town,
A woman lay dead, blood on her wedding gown.

The blood has washed away; the town is now forsaken,
The dawning of another day, the bodies; not one waken,
Now the living ceased, a desolate place,
Now the vulture's feast, an empty space,
The drums are no more; the lives were the price to pay,
The monsters were thought lore, when the light was taken away...