Stolen From Hell

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was on a day man had stolen
from hell,
a day of death.
A day when blood oozed
from the ground
and destruction fell like
hail amidst a tornado.

One face — one among many,
mud-caked and gore-sprayed,
waiting in the trench for his turn —
lifts skyward with a plea.

A God notices…shakes his head
in denial.

“I can not longer help. Prayer
has no power when
man can steal days from hell.”

.

.

For The Mag
Channeling a bit of Stephen Crane tonight.

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13 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

13 responses to “Stolen From Hell

  1. An imaginative – and rather moving – take on the prompt.

  2. Laurie Kolp

    Prayer
    has no power when
    man can steal days from hell

    …powerful words, Mark!

  3. A thought provoking premise.>KB

  4. … there were so many days from hell ~ yes, this is powerful!

  5. Sue

    Quite an image…stealing days from hell.
    Whew.

    “/

  6. Exactly the way it leaves one feeling. You have caught it powerfully.

  7. Wow, that is powerful. Imagine something so evil that God turns away. Well done.

  8. frig man….gritty…the god-speak at the end as well is quite loud in what it says…

  9. Despair is reigning everywhere tonight….

  10. margaretbednar

    I think this is my favorite for this challenge. It has a very personal feel – nicely captured.

  11. Shawna

    Your opening and closing blew me away.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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