to moonbeams over glasgow...

blackest black night

penetrated by

sounds of steel spiraling

through the flesh

of old wounds never healed

under the cover of full metal jackets
years of differences fester still

shades of hatred begetting

bloody canvasses of life in glasgow

velocity and energy and density

no longer marking the weather

now marking the storm of

death on wing

travel path and target

spelling bloody ballistics

random projectiles

of hate in flight

razors of yesteryear

slicing through layers of dysphoria

knives brandished with deadly intent

by children wandering the streets

of chaos and turmoil

their spirits no longer theirs

buried already in the graveyard

of discontent

bloodstains color the hard cracked

surface of their hearts

men in black leather jackets

grim reapers of silent violence

women and children fearful

of creaking floors and opening doors

longing yearning for

the warm sunlight

of what should be

seeking solace and safety

behind locks and chains

husbands keeping watch

with metal filled pillows

giving way to sleepless nights

of signs and sounds

waiting for dawn

waiting for day

for another way

just one more day

praying for the other way

trying to make another way

the way of peace and love

the way of love and peace

with the warmth of

brother loving brother

melting the heartless

frigid winter of

despair and desperation

painting in vibrant

life-sustaining sunshine

the canvasses of

life in glasgow

where children frolick
on the playgrounds 

of a better life
and mothers sleep
through the night
with their babes
cradled in the soft
arms of peace
and husbands and fathers
awake from sweet dreams
of serenity and stillness

the only sounds those

of golden moonbeams

falling gently over

life in glasgow