after the fire

Steve Pearson Poetry

the slaying of our societal rose
futility’s dream in its darkest clothes
suffering on a societal scale
the breath of evil as demons exhale
spitting death as worthless bile
in name of a God they singly defile
craving the immortal jamboree
but how immortal can a murderer be
We still believe in society’s flower
reach for all tolerance within our power
still we aim for the jewelled skies
immutable hope our unbreakable prize

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