Voices of an Angry Lord

[Psychotic Daizy Dukes]

You! Yes you. When you kill someone!
Do you ever think?
Do you wonder about that family?
Do you ever think of the mother?
The father? The parents without a child?
The lover? The daughter? The son?
Do you wonder about the friends?
Do you wonder about their story?

Look at this girl...
She was a simple woman.
She worked at a bookstore.
She was in college.
Come to her funeral.
Watch mer mother's tears flow down her face.
Her father is trying to look calm.
She has children.
A little girl and a four-month old child.
Look at the husband. How will he support them?
They need a mother. A mother you took away.

Look at this couple.
It was their weding night.
What a terrible fate.
Husband and wife, bound together in eternal matrimony...
Now facing judgement.
Perfect joy turned to terror.
What a wedding night!
That a honeymoon!
You monster, you b*****d!

Did you wonder about the friends she had?
Did you wonder about his sister?
What about their parents?
The children who never had a chance to live?
The family shredded apart?
Watch her mother sob into her father's chest.
Watch his father cling to his mother, comforting her.
Human lives are precious.
Human lives are important.

You are not god.
You have no right to take their lives.
You are not human.
You are a monster.
Die.
I wrote this after the terrorist attacks in India... God, it sucked a lot.  

[Patron with a Mission]

It is said there is beauty even within ashes. Your poem is a perfect example of that, for even within the emotions you describe, beauty can be found with your structure and your rage.

I had heard about the attacks. While sitting behind my computer in a comfortable and safe setting, there is not much I can say. I cannot say that I know how it feels, I cannot say that I sympathize.

I cannot say anything other than I hope that it does not happen again, and if it does, less lives are lost. -silently prays for those lost-