5 of 96

by Scott Scherr

Minutes Marching

Minutes marching over souls in conflict,
All life, once vibrant, ending with a flash.
There was no time to register the horror,
Before the fires turned it all to ash.

Gardens flourishing, and crops in season,
Young men courting girls before the prom,
Children laughing at the summer playgrounds;
All of this and more, in minutes, gone.

Years will turn as relics own their stories,
Charred buildings act as headstones for the lost.
Specters linger long through broken windows,
Where they last stood to view this holocaust.

Today they are the remnants of man's madness,
Cities of ancient Earth now tombs of sadness.

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Poetry: Ancient cities

by Scott Scherr

Poetry: Ancient cities

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