Raging Sunsets Poem by John McCornack

Raging Sunsets



Maybe the Sunset Gods are angry
Windmills destroyed... a bad deed
As nothing sacred seems to be safe
From man's hot pursuit to succeed

The sacred places being torn apart
As if it was some sort of bad dream
It is a taste of what life has become
Where old destruction is the routine

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John McCornack

John McCornack

Yukon, Oklahoma
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