A Breathing Mask of Chaos

by Nema   Feb 25, 2018

He held a breathing mask
in the midst of chaos
face wandering, covered with ashes.

Ashes of war hurt more
than war

Where would air come from?
The smoke of demolished buildings?
Or the smoke of burned bodies?
Or perhaps from the burning thoughts
of the living?

The background
is a peaceful blue curtain
at a war zone
where war is the definition
of peace,
and blood

without an end


I haven't written poetry in nearly 5 years. Please bear with me. Written after a picture I saw of a Syrian kid trying desperately to save his baby brother.


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Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by Abed

    Judging comment:

    A tribute to ashen faces beneath rubble. A broken glass of blood. Everything burns in this poem, hurts and burns again. Sometimes I ask myself what are words worth of when the only device capable of change now is terror? Maybe the mere act of reminding found in poetry is valuable and capable of a slow-paced change, too? The author trains a gun on the face of neglect, perhaps we are reminded that some spots in the world refract but black rainbows. I saw the picture which triggered this gem. Devastating to say the least. A train of ugly thoughts even crossed my mind then. Is the will to live and survive this overwhelming? Why live? And what for? To keep on breathing chaos?! The irony!

  • 2 years ago

    by Ren

    My heart aches with every word you've written and the vivid image now pulsing in my mind. Congrats on a much deserved win!

  • 2 years ago

    by C Cattaway

    Such a sad picture you've painted. Beautifully done.
    Congratulations on the win.
    Catherine x

  • 2 years ago

    by Mark

    Congratulations on the win!

  • 2 years ago

    by Hope

    great and creative poem, please keep writing.

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