Murder In The Spring Time
        by Christopher Eastman-Nagle   (kiffit@Writing.Com)


Murder in the springtime



Murder in the springtime
Moist with blood
Spattered on the walls and pavements
Gutters flood
Blocked by bits of clothing
Body parts and mud.

Red blossoms in the springtime
Stand in pools
Sprouting from the fallen crowd
Of blameless fools
Flung by the unseasonal storm
A giant's discarded tools.

Tender lambs in springtime
To the butcher's block
Indifferent eyes stare vacantly
Taking stock
Shredded in the grinding mill
That mauls them by the flock.

Murder in the springtime
The fanatics' chic
An expression of fashionable hate
And religious pique
Emboldened blinded youths explode
For the redemption that they seek.

Murder in the springtime
The martyrs' sleep
The killer and the killed alike
Gone in deep
Rebalanced in death's favour
The living left a whirlwind reap.
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