Nineteen Ninety One, May Day I

                       I
Shattered:  The Storm’s despotic wind
Blew the unsecured door open,
Forcing the crystal globe vase
From its sacred mantle altar.
Frenzied rodents, finding no food,
Deposit lines of droppings in disgust
Among the trampled stems and petals.

Scattered:  On the floor pieces of Dreams
Crackle under the heavy step,
Pulverized in the groping darkness
Of a black past become Present;
Finally exorcising a future
This world may never know.

Flattered:  For twenty odd years a generation
Has kept the Dream of a New World alive
By watering, pruning and worshipping
Their own unique vision of the future.
Barely breathing, the Dream of Peace through Love
Has been unceremoniously unplugged and buried
In a common grave without markings or ribbons.

Battered:  “With technological precision
All targets have been destroyed
With few, if any, casualties.
Enemy estimates are unreliable,
As collateral damage has been minimal.
This ends the military briefing.
No questions will be taken at this time.”

Continue to part II
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