Shattered Dreams

Warning: The verbiage in this passage may not be suitable to all.

 

Shattered Dreams

 

 

 

Last night in my dreams, God took me to Israel, a war torn saga that cripples nations around the world; her intentions were to impeach my thoughts of injustice or so I believed. I arrived in a dusty town somewhere approximately to the left of turmoil and the right of brutality, which did not prepare me for the scenery ahead. As I stood there in the presence of God, I could not stop but wondering why she brought me here and what her justification for this witnessing would bring.

 

The terminology “the sky is falling,” shrieks in the windy blasts as fragments of superheated metal sliced through the air like a setaline torch letting loose on a metal frame. The embers shrouded my clothing with such force that the slashes pitted my skin and made me bleed.  The hairy portion of my nose flared as the hot air vapors attacked my lungs. A pungent odor sickens my stomach although the source not visible, due to all the smoke and dust. The odor was similar to the smell of road kill lying on the side of the road for days on end, only more putrefying and vile. My ears seem to hum continuously from the bombs blasting through the air as the buzzing of flies search for fresh food to nestle new life. They were homing in on tiny pieces of remains scattered along the ground. Pockets of light now showered the ground, bringing the omen of reality to visualize, as my stomach muscles vibrated and hurled violently until empty, but still oozing, quickly soaked my shirt.

 

Lying in the ruins of homes were pieces of mangled bones and shredded flesh being overwhelm by an army of insects. I almost did not know who the enemy was, nor did I care at this point in such a horrific scene. The most annoying vision was that of the children all covered in sticky blood syrup that bonded their stuffed toys to their body parts in a cluster form. The mothers gathered around tightly to their children to protect them at the point of impact, which practically vaporizing them. All that was left seemed to be pieces of… nothing you could definitely say belong to anyone or thing, other than the toys that lingered along the ground.

 

I sat crouched, rocking back and forth, with tears gushing out my eyes, as I saw that God was watching me. My chin vibrated and chattered as if I was cold as saliva dripped from my lips as if tears were not enough. The more I looked at the scene the worse I would cry and dribble in my lap. No one else seemed to be present, leaving all these people by themselves, forgotten in the violence of a millisecond. I rocked violently, hymned, and hawed like a baby.

 

God reached her hand towards me, to stand and follow her lead. I stood, and then ventured with her towards the ruins where even more people suffered in a flash of light, as death had knocked at their door too. I could still smell my vomit in the breeze, and thought many times that I would again wring my insides. I hoped she would take me from this God forsaken land and back to some type of normalcy but she pushed on. 

 

As I turn to her and began to ask why, she gripped my hand hard and said…”Why?” It is important that others see what is happening, and I chose you so you could tell what you saw. Giving an accurate account of details is what most poets can do, and giving a vision of hope is important to all those who have not yet seen such explicit visions.

 

Who’s to blame for this travesty, and why do they press on in this massacre fashion? 

 

Does it matter who’s to blame, does it solve the massacre, or bring back to life of those who have perished in a inhuman way?  If you answered no, then you should realize that people tend to fight for selfish reasons and when the reality sets in, many people are dead at the expense of those shimmering in a false light. Millions of people around the world defy what is happening but are at a loss. They do not know what to do.  Remember this, for this is a clue to understand the wastefulness of human emotions that ends in human tragedy.

 

The army on one side has no more power than what the people give to them and if they give them the power to kill these people and children then they too are as much responsible as those that sit and claim to oppose it. The army on the other side is just as much as responsible as those that crowd around women and children, to protect themselves from the death that does and will catch them but at the sacrifice of children who never had a chance at life. Just because they are young and naives doesn’t allow them to squander their lives. It’s so shameful that people hurt their young in a disrespectful way and since when did a life become a tater for target practice. The ones that should solve the problem are those that can’t live together based on ethnicity or belief in a God, which they accept but really don’t understand. For extinction is only just around the corner and if that is what you want then nobody can cry foul. This is not an option for I only want to assures that life is a sacred vessel.   To sit there and do this is unforgivable, even though I have said I would not hurt you for your action, I’m not stupid… to do this is… and I repeat, unforgivable. To pass the blame means nothing to me and I warn you this will have repercussions. 

 

As I woke from my dream in a mirror of sweat, I could still remember this vivid dream and only wondered why she took me where I didn’t want to go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Winter McPherson]

Wow! This is an amazing write! The imagery is fantastic! The way you describe the horror, I could almost see it and smell it and taste it. Really, really good! This is one of the best stories I have seen on this site...you're very talented! Bravo!!

I would like to pick out some of my favorite parts but there are too many. Incredible description!
I am seriouly impressed!

[Saturnalia]

I read an article this morning in Journalism. A Palestinian man had killed a 14-year-old Iraeli boy and injured a 7-year-old with a pickax. It's almost a summary of what is happening there. Killing more people doesn't bring back the dead. This conflict has gone on too long, and I don't think it will ever end. It seems impossible and way too complicated. But no matter what, war is war, and it's horrible. However, wars get what people want; Countries have been built on war. This conflict is just a cycle of lies and false retreats.

This story encompassed that. One thing I have to point out is that the sentence structure seems a little awkward. In this sentence: "Millions of people around the world defy what is happening but are at a lost to what to actually do." I suggest you change the wording or flip some things around. Also, "This is not an option with me for I only want to assures that life is a sacred vessel." should be "This is not an option with me for I only want to assure that life is a sacred vessel." Maybe you can change the "with me" part or delete all together.

Other than that, you employ great vocabulary, imagery, and emotion. I love how you made God a woman. It's very unique (reminds me of the song "God is a Girl" only it's not very cute). Shattered Dreams brought out a kind of worldly awareness in me. I've been reading the news a lot more since I'm a history buff and some of these things may go down in history. The Palestinian-Israeli conflict is something I'm especially interested in, and you portrayed it well. Not only for that war, but for wars in general.

[Angela]

She took you because you needed to go. So that you would be able to enlighten those that choose to turn a blind eye to what is happenong in this world. Who better than a poet to see, and relate the horrors and inhuman acts that are being perpetrated against mankind for the sake of religion and or control. What better way than to use your pen to bring home the devastation of our people and the impact against our planet. If we don't wake up soon, then we will be damned. What a powerful piece. As usual, your work never ceases to amaze me. Thanks for sharing