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| Poem |
 
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The giants weep by Terry Cummings
 (10 ratings)
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Mock the air that scores the skin
And laugh through thunder built within
Wash the blood from blinking eyes
That look to wonder in the skies
Exist as beasts that jump in rage
Shimmering scales holding page
Through glass eyes that watch afar
Grip the hands that score the scar
Follow serpents single file
And pace the world in sombre mile
Touch again those foreign lands
That spit the acid left by hands
To bend across to scream and roar
To be the gods of peace and war
Twisting in the words of reign
That burn the world and spill the pain
Triumph we who hold the world
Shout and scream a word unheard
Crushing air and ripping skin
For we are they that come within
For we are they who are the right
We who laden burdened fight
The children grow in awe of might
Of those of we who burn the night
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