Scarlet

A Poem inspired by The Secret River

In the stillness of the night
For tomorrow I wait on the morn
And the sun rises
Across the waters
Your sweet voice
Your heart sings
London bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down

A noise
Like a volcano erupting
There is one
Down among the bushes
Chaos and confusion
It reigns supreme
Shots, shouts
Men, women and children
They are slayed
Slaughtered like dogs
The attackers however are not
Without loss

Head, hand and back
all in turn are hit
face in the dust
helpless as a beetle
scarlet with blood
my hands are.

The quiet of whistling
As a spear strikes and quivers
In the very earth it came from
Like one caught in a dream
I am paralyzed
A man tries
to catch the spear true
but he misses
a terrible mistake
I will try
But my hands will never be
Washed
They will be stained with
Innocent blood
Forevermore.