untitled
The cold steel whispers, a promise grim and tight,
A hollow promise, wrapped in polished light.
In markets bustling, schools where laughter rings,
A sudden silence, the echo of death’s wings.
Innocence shattered, on a playground’s painted floor,
Dreams extinguished, forever locked behind a door.
Mothers rage, fathers weep, a love they can’t reclaim,
A gaping hole, etched deep, a wound without a name.
The news portrays a scene, a blur of blood and tears,
Statistics rising, fueling mounting fears.
Politicians bicker, while bodies slowly cool,
Empty platitudes, a hollow, useless tool.
But through the sorrow, a flicker of defiance burns,
A chorus yearning, for change the spirit burns.
Marches gather, voices strong and clear,
Demanding action, to quell this chilling fear.
For every life extinguished, a thousand more will rise,
With hearts ablaze with purpose, reflected in their eyes.
They’ll break the silence, shatter apathy’s hold,
Until a world transformed, a story yet untold.
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Great sonnet. I hope it happens.