“His Own Hand”

The shadows fall from the battered ground,
upwards to the clear blue skies.

They reach for sunlight,
But it burns.
Blind to their blight,
They refuse to learn.

Blinding shimmers soar the skies
and hear the shades as they cry out.

They catch the shadows
Falling backwards,
Ending pains the shadows chose
And expecting kind rewards.

The shadows glow as lights turn out;
they form a new race they call man.

They joined as one
But found their natures torn;
They never knew they had begun
An age of eternal scorn.

Hatred haunted the hearts of men,
while glimmers of hope lit their souls.

Hatred won in many hearts;
They brought it out into their lands.
Death reigned over every art,
Set on man by his own hand.