No Pardons

You set fire to the hills I nourished back to life,

You poisoned the rivers and sharpened the knives.

In the grand confusion, I gave up all my reason

And watched as the smoke turned darker each season.

The greenery grew paler with each word you spoke.

I knew there was no escape, so I became a ghost –

A fantasy, a tale to tell kids in winter evenings.

You liquidated my story, changed its real meaning.

As I stood in the dust of what was once a garden,

You said those undying words:

“One more chance to ask for a pardon.”

-JW