~Angels Praying For Peace~

Screaming orange light that takes one to madness.
A place of marshmallow, elated feeling.
No shoes sitting, scuffing in the dirt.
Fixed eyes behold holy light and feel the grey coldness.

Wooden houses rest on cinder block,
A beginning through the grey clouds.
Angels stare with fixed eyes exposed to the blue coldness,
Bowing in prayer with shaking, folded hands,
Wiping twisted pain, smoked with vast emptiness.

They come in masses, lined up as stacks,
of red red, white, and blue paper upon a desk.
Smug smiles with no reasoning give out harsh directions in lightening powerful bolts.

Blind - folded prosecutors take up the blank page upon the round table.
The Homeland is alone without flags and song.
God has been removed.

copyright - March 2005
Patricia Hine-Stewart