Sestina
Gently, so gently, lay down the words,
Weaving a web of deceit to be heard
By gullible fools and power-hungry men
Who, blood and murder, can easily defend.
Without a care for justice or right,
Lines are drawn as clear as day and night.
So the blood runs thick and dark as night,
Spilled by careful manipulation of words.
Each side thinks that they must be right;
On either side, the other won’t be heard.
Until any action, their words will rush to defend
Even that of the twisted, not just noble-good men.
Like pawns in a chess game fall these men
From day’s start until the end of night.
Whilst rots the causes that they gallantly defend
And the murders drown out the truth of their words —
The cries of the dying are the only things heard.
They lay on the ground, stiff and cold, the ones who were right.
So the triumphant warriors will claim their right
To power as they stand on top of the corpses of these men.
They who’ve twisted the sentiments that once were heard,
Who’ve changed shouts in daylight to whispers of the night,
Who began the fight by corrupting just words
That those who are still free will passionately defend.
But soon to be dead are those that defend,
Crushed by the hand that fights not for the right
But instead for the power that once belonged to the words
Of those who wanted peace, the dead wise men,
Lying in their own blood on the battlefield at night
Where only the whippoorwill’s mourning cries are heard.
Finally, finally, the peace prevails, silence is heard,
And the hysteria, people will no longer defend.
Learning of people killed during ignorance’s Night,
They merely feel regret for heinous violations of what is right,
And allow back into society, these criminal men
Who, years ago, in the night, began the whispers of words.
So now what the people heard, no one will claim that is right
The gruesome actions will not defend, and the faces of those dastardly men,
Who began the whisper of the words, fade away to hide in forgiving night