what devastation surrounds them
tribal worship of a cult of hatred
the minds of the youthful
are the deranged playgrounds of the withered
that is,
the naked symmetry of nature
the sinew of a cold, rusty door frame
swollen tongues behind thin, pursed lips
conceal great wealth and
sing to us of wars seen and forgotten
wars seen only in the shutter of the mind’s eye
they are watching
the face of obsidian in their eyes
and while
the piercing stare of the distant sniper scope
seems reflected in each leaden iris
but repelled by each precious pupil
by warriors of love and innocence
with Molotov hearts and whetstone minds
for how long in insolence?