What call for prayer,
there is oft no time
or thought for prayer
when a friend’s brain
bleeds pink and his body
convulses spastically,
head shoot already dead,
while death stalks fresh
meat and fresh fear feasts,
on young hearts
still camouflaged living
haunted minds
weapons clutched
raw wounds ready
to inflict upon
unknown enemies
wearing uniforms
we do not wear.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light)
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-call-for-prayer/
