reflections on the never ending

Back to: Surviving the Devil: A Song of Fire
Poem #37 from the ‘Surviving the Devil’ collection (unpublished). This is the final poem in the series.

and I wonder
when will this thing end

each time I put down my pen
I think it’s done
I’ve heard enough of these hard stories

there’s only so much
that anyone can tell
and I
am just like anybody else
I want bad things to fade away
to nothing
and then I might move on

but each day
there’s news from the enquiry

somebody’s story
takes my breath
and I am moved
by the poetry of pain and fear
and honesty
released in the cadence of their voices

I don’t need to read the papers
to know that winter is here
there’s been six days in a row of frost
and a blanket of snow
up around the burnt out hills

where whole town remnants are shivering
in tents and caravans
and the ash of burnt out hopes and dreams
of ordinary lives
hasn’t yet been cleared

I wrote another story of survival
that I heard just yesterday
when I read it to my wife
she wept

I guess it hasn’t ended yet

perhaps it will go on
so long as somebody remembers
so long as the survivors can still tell their tales

and someone is still listening
to stories forged in hell

© Frank Prem, 2010

5 thoughts on “reflections on the never ending

  1. I am sure the fires will rage on in memories, and I dare say for those at the in its wake there will never be enough water. The blanket of snow on charred remnants paints a crazy picture too. Fine words to bring your works to a close, Frank.

    Liked by 1 person

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