Untitled WIP 2.0

version 2.0 WIP, intro to a song.

The boy with the bullhorn’s blood runs into a storm drain.
So much left to say
Riot police and National Guard trample his body as they facilitate retreat.
Gaining ground through ominous waves
Of
Black batons and shields
Of
Brutality and blind conformity
Breaking all the great dreamers and lovers
And hopeful peacemakers and revolutionist
Bow their heads in defeat
Black smoke bellows into the sky fanned by the silence
Before the storm the dust settles only to be kicked up by the rain
Of thousands of shattered dreams and tear gas canisters
Crashing to the earth in unison
Overturned cars, cities in ruin create indisputable beauty
For there is beauty in this chaos
Deformed bodies lay peaceful, draped in the coroners’ sheets of white ash
For there is beauty in the destruction created by this cause
Innocence sits off on the way side like flotsam in the wake of a storm
Hope and fear in there eyes are in stark contrast to the hate and horror I see in mine as I pass a shattered window
I walk aimlessly
Nothing to live for
The sound of swing sets and laughter seems so long ago
For now the humming drone of an ever growing machine is all that reaches my ears
For today has been the culmination of all of my fears
Gods and demons, idols cast in human flesh speak through boxes
Using patriotism as a cover for the defilement of humanity
The mistress of freedom, the en-slaver of the poor.
Private propaganda.
Bankers of the pimps, pimpers of the w****s.
Sirens upon the cliff.
The sleek machine of war

Author's Note

feedback is awesome.

Reviews

[Sel Whiteley]

The language here so rich and you capture the protest and crowd scene incredibly well:

Breaking all the great dreamers and lovers
And hopeful peacemakers and revolutionist
Bow their heads in defeat
Black smoke bellows into the sky fanned by the silence
Before the storm the dust settles only to be kicked up by the rain
Of thousands of shattered dreams and tear gas canisters
Crashing to the earth in unison
Overturned cars,

and:

Deformed bodies lay peaceful, draped in the coroners' sheets of white ash

are both beautiful images. But all the writing is immediate, beautiful and intense.