I can feel the beat of the drum
that repetitive mesmerizing
all to familiar vibration
that pounds deep in the heart
blood pumping adrenaline rush
of those that can not see beyond
their own insecurities – fears
egos soar high above
with the wing span – symbolic majestic strength
of an eagle – hawk mentality
never questioning the obvious
never questioning the past
– those beyond the age of service

I remember that vibration, that sensation
the lacking of humanity and compassion
that fills the hearts – of some
the puffing up of their chest with fists pounding
words spewing free flowing venom – poison
like the rumbling sound of the earth cracking
splitting down the middle – jagged edges
swallowing the souls of those in search
of salvation and redemption
the sound of those that continue to reject
– those beyond the age of service

I hear the beat of the drum
an all to familiar sound that pounds
louder and louder – each day
and there are no lessons learned
we fall to our knees praying to our particular source of god
we hold our children close – they are all our children
close to our chest hearts pounding – rhythmic surrender
wounds so deeply ingrained – subconscious prejudice
there is no power of prayer or ranting and raving
that will ever set the record straight
that will ever clear the slate
posing the same questions – repetitive prompting
war the only acceptable answer
– for those beyond the age of service

© 2014 TrilbyYates