I was told by some people whom I showed my previous poems that I should try a different writing style than the one I primarily used, possibly without using any rhyme or rhythm as all of my poems sounded lyrical. I decided I would at least make an attempt at writing a poem without rhyme. Any reviews on this one comparing it with the others would be much appreciated. I do accept requests for written poems, but only on the topic. If you specify you want a poem about Autumn then I'm willing to write that. If however, you specify that you want a poem regarding less comfortable themes such as your own relationship, I will be unwilling to write it. Thank you to anyone who read this.
Silence invades my ears like sirens,
I wish it were sirens blaring.
Calm before the storm, so commonly proven.
No thunder, no sound.
This feeling, sobering,
Rising in my chest.
Stormy skies, black clouds above,
Still silent like a broken drum.
Millions of us are gathered,
Anxiously awaiting the action.
Stormy clouds foreshadowing,
Action about to unfold.
Rain falls from the sky,
Like tears of the crying oppressed.
As thunder starts to roll,
Thunderous booming voices,
All throughout the town.
Lightning flashes brightly,
From these thunder clouds.
Rising against society,
Withering it away.
As the sorrow of the skies,
Creates a fire made from tears.
Freedom is no longer what it seems.
It now feels controlled,
Just like the oppressor,
Silently shunning our souls.
Fire engulfs the city,
Madness overwhelms the streets.
Lightning contols the skies,
Destruction left behind in their wake.
People scream and silently cry,
At the hatred that's been brought.
Soldiers try to calm the fire,
Unknowingly fuelling the flames.
Tears fall with the bodies,
Cries further ignite the flame.
Too much sacrifice was made.
But the fire is still ablaze.
Too late to quell the encroaching fires.
Too late to bring back the dead.
Too late to stop the sacrifice.
Even the silence was better than this.
The rain continues to fall,
Now crimson from our blood.
Smoke permeates the skies.
As the pungent smell of death grows.
Finally, the violence ends,
But everyone is dead.
Bodies lay forgotten,
As the smell washes away with the rain.
Corpses left unburied,
People left unmourned.
Was it worth it?
Everything was lost in your blind hate.