When will it happen?
When will it
happen?
They say that it
will never happen
That that it
will never be used.
That its payload
of death will never be released
Fire will never
flow out beneath it
Precisely
controlled electronic impulses will never steer it.
That the missile
will never fly,
They say that it
will never reach the upper atmosphere.
That it will never
observe the ground beneath it.
And that, it will
never strike down onto its unsuspecting prey.
But it will strike,
it will be used.
And as it strikes
its smaller brothers will try to intercept,
But they are
slow and weak.
And it is strong
and determined.
It gains power
and speed, becoming a streak of light across the sky.
As if the godly creatures
had sent down a ball of fire.
It strikes
through a layer of clouds.
It slams into
the ground, vaporizing every car, street, house, tree and person.
Fifty miles of ravaged
landscape, twenty miles of fire
A hundred miles
away a twin automatically shoots out of the ground.
Precisely
controlled electronic impulses steer the twin,
Into the upper
atmosphere.
When will it
happen?
And how will it end?
And how will it end?
There's so much imagery in this it gives me chills.
ReplyDeleteI like how you described the rocket as fast and the interceptors are weak.
ReplyDeleteI really like your word diction! Very advanced vocabulary.
ReplyDeleteYour poem uses great imagery to covey the image of war and missile strikes. You comment on how people may say the missiles might not be used, but you think they will.
ReplyDelete