Oh blessed hope,
Both hardly a dream.
Sweltering heat and bloodshed in the street.

Send the troops home
There is no reason for them to roam.
These are desolate times
We have chosen ill faded rhymes

The casualties are enormous
For a stated cause that's atrocious
A mother's cry as the door chime rings
Vanishing salute to freedom as the church choir sings.

Let's look above for the heavenly love
Merciful one, take this chip off my shoulder
Stop the senseless fighting before our nation grows a little colder.

Seeds are dropped from a farmer's bag.
In time roots spring up out of the fertile soil
As the sun heats up
Only time will tell when this harvest will boil.

In the game of life your time is very brief
The soul yearns for heavenly relief
Share with others who want to turn over a new leaf.

Time will tell the importance of helping each other.

To never give into the harsh criticism that our society puts out.
Time will tell of a return home to the open arms of a loved one..

 © Mario William Vitale

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