Sense Sonnet - Acher

Real Visual

The little lifeless bodies lie,
Bullet riddled and ripped apart.
A grotesque face with hanging eye,
Bits and pieces of silent heart.
The bloodied, mangled flesh and bone,
Interspersed with the clothing worn
By fated children in a zone
Where terror came, and they were torn
From life and loved ones evermore,
Deprived of all reason and sense.
Picture this in the piles of gore
That must be marked as evidence.

Look at all the madness done,
Made even more mad by a gun.