War Games

• Cheyeanne Henderson-watkins, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2014

Cruel desires wreak havoc upon blackened shores,
A malevolent eye;
It’s malign gaze, o’ swivel by me.
For shrouded in torn men I lie.

Friends, foes, feast thine eyes on this,
No holy grail prevails;
When those who run, outrun
the charitable, efforts fall to no avail.

The allure of freedom still rings in our ears,
Not a shout, but a whisper;
Deception laced in a man’s mind,
Clutching a goal not first perceived.

Mothers, fathers, kin abroad, forgot thy name,
Men who hold no scruples;
Have ripped it from thy tongue and laid it bear to waste,
Amongst those entrenched in the perils of this moral game.