After the War

A sonnet

Laura Sheridan
No Crime in Rhymin’

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Photo by Hans Isaacson on Unsplash

And now, the dragons come, clouding the sky,
Their leather wings gleam grey as molten lead,
They screech and howl as overhead they fly,
Swoop down, snatch-claw the bodies of the dead,
And in the sea, Leviathan ploughs waves,
Its mighty jaws encompass Spanish galleons,
Yet now they swallow men in briny graves,
Whose bones and flesh are fit only for carrion.
Gigantic wurm-life creeps forth, sniffing blood,
Their ring-toothed mouths in greediness devour
Cold corpses in the sour sanguinous mud,
And surely, this must be our darkest hour,
For naught is left but broken stone and glass.
Our sons and daughters curse us as they pass.

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Laura Sheridan
No Crime in Rhymin’

I write to entertain, explain…and leave a tickle of laughter in your brain.