The Silent Shredder
More and more you shred everything apart
The lands, our dignity and a mother’s heart.
Replaying are a child’s anguished yawps all day, but-
No valour comes to save his now vacuous hut.
Reins of men good for not one high crown:
Your mighty silence will come crumbling down.
Now and then, my last sensitised thoughts shake me awake
And grasps me a feeling my words fail to make-
The tremor in his voice and your best days,
Limbs torn in his arms and your cruel ways.
Still a slumber I opt for what to me could he be?
Disguised demons of his reality, in dreams, haunt me.
More and more you shred your first sanctuary;
Collecting blood for vampires in your armoury.
Made living their biggest horror with such ease,
Told the world they were an insidious disease.
Now all you’ve left is a museum of remains
That aches and breaks and yet it remains
The writer is a 15 year old avid reader with a love for cats.