Clash Poem

Fluffy clouds of blue and pink
Turned into flaming plains,
All we do, or say, or think
Can only fuel the pain.

Rainbows dancing in the sky
Fell into heroes’ graves;
And all the hopes we once held high
Lay fettered and enslaved.

Flowers dotting all the fields
Became a land of bones;
No longer laughter does it yield,
Our heart beats like a stone.

Flying free above the earth,
Crashing, falling, burned.
Our freedom shattered, torn of worth -
But with it, much we’ve learned.

While all the posies turn to ash
And songs turn into death,
The wills of truth and beauty clash
Leaving us bereft.

Though what we had has been so changed -
Colors turned to gray -
Though hope seems so to be estranged,
Here’s where we must stay.

In this land of petrified dreams
All seems empty and frayed,
But reality has burst through the seams;
This, the price we paid.

Our world may seem hostile and bare
Void of life and light,
We could not bring ourselves to share
The lies with good and right.

For in our seeming imprisonment
We find our liberty,
Beauty was used as an implement
To hide lies’ sovereignty.

This wasteland is our humble home
And we are living proof
That lovely lies have not outshone
The utmost need for truth.