PRAYING FOR PEACE
First the flash, then the thunder, then the rain is felt; falling, bursting upon impact. Shrapnel storms follow each firebolt unleashed. The blood of old and young alike pools up, waiting for the hot breath of death to evaporate the gelled coagulate into just another stain on the land. Thirty people gathered to protest for an end to the rain. Fifteen said it should rain harder and then peace will come, the other fifteen said that the rain would stop, once the first fifteen were dead.
© M Durfee