Steve Pearson Poetry

Like candle flames lost upon a savage gust
Children of Peshawar lost to ungodly bloodlust,
Lost to parents grieving daughters and sons,
Lost by the rattling flame of clattering guns.
The school hallways became their killing grounds
Echoing to mass murder and its terrifying sounds.
They invoke Islamic faith like a martyrdom junkie
How holy can a child killer with a loaded gun be?
No gods, no prophets, no justification for killing,
Just the evil that men do: a coalition of the willing.
The children of Peshawar, slaughtered for nothing
Tit for tat, no more than that. Terrorism’s plaything.

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