In a place called sane

So Sad The Tale:



Observe



A school of fish goes swimming by

beneath a water clear as sky

shimmering in the golden light

cast from stars intensely bright

doing naught to cause us harm

engaged deep in things found fun

a splash is heard as time flys by



Beautiful. Now watch it die



A touch of darkness hides your sight

covering those once bathed in light

now they shiver, filled with fright

wondering what has caused their plight

oil is poison off the shore

nonetheless, it's there in stores

one by one they know no more

souls fly free from bloodless gore



Innocent's gone, we wonder why

So sad the tale, it'd make men cry



Behold



A doe is trampling in the brush

turning grass and leaves to mush

calm in nature, never rushed

ivory freckles dot it's blush

nimbly leaping from tree to tree

proving it's forever free

prancing in the sun so nigh



Magnificent. Now watch it die



A twig is shattered in the dark

to the sound the great doe harks

sees the metal, sees the spark

of the tool that stops it's heart

deer are murdered 'board to port

for the game we men call sport

hardly justice, hardly right

yet, continues day and night



Life's are claimed, we wonder why

So sad the tale, it'd make men cry



Perceive



A waterfall of endless lore

rushes towards the forest floor

a dark-red sun o'er white hot dunes

dot's the plains of timeless june

A civilization of centuries past

here today and here to last

Natures wonders, ever so wry



Impeccable. Now watch it die.



Forests burned along the ground

naught but stumps are ever found

rivers tarnished, rivers gone

plowed and fished till life is none

art forsaken, art destroyed

art of humans null and void

war is something not enjoyed

nonetheless, it's still deployed.



A world is gone; we wonder why

So sad the tale, it'd make men cry



Those who pain as time goes by

those whose limbs can't feel the sky

those who watch with wry filled eyes

those whose hearts have gone awry

those who doubt the one's on high

those whose spirits too-soon fly

those who hate; we wonder why



So sad the tale, it'd make men cry.



AN: This is possibly my most depressing poem, period. But, if it is read (especially by one, CrimsonWatersAlien) then I hope it is enjoyed.

The Peacekeeper:



In the place's you call home

stress is evil, stress is wrong

so you do what you have honed

keeping peace as you go on



Now they're fighting, gauntlet thrown

soon to reap what they have sown

he said, she said; you don't know

this fight wasn't in your zone



Jack be nimble, jack be quick

jack knocked down the candle stick

now the fire's spreading fast

built to linger, built to last



In the places you call home

keeping peace is all you've known

now they ask your thoughts be loaned

so you give from what you know



Anger given, anger honed

anger traded o'er the phone

he said, she said; you don't know

what is right and what is wrong



Should you help him, should you her

this fight wasn't in your zone

shouting from the dark alone

you will give of what you know



Now they cry and now they moan

now they know that all along

peace was little, peace was none

will they see what's done is done



Some do see and some atone

some can not leave well alone

in the place's you call home

keeping peace is all you've known



He said, she said; you don't know

this fight wasn't in your zone

of so few is this fight owned

of so many is it known



Anger given, anger known

anger traded o'er the phone

hatred built and left to roam

seen in those who shout alone



He said, she said; you don't know

this fight wasn't in your zone

in the place's you call home

keeping peace is all you've known



Can you when your soul is gone?