Village Idiot Publishing (C) 2000 Diary of a Spirt
ANGELS OF MERCY
Arched like a rainbow in the sky,
They jump though the air,
With the grace, of a shimmer of light.
Thirty knots at sea,
And they tag along with ease.
What attraction do they have,
To this vessel made of iron?
Yet they swim along side, like family.
How free they seem to be,
To tag along just for fun.
All day long,
With no fatigue in sight.
Their energy brings amazement,
When will they hunger, and break away?
Sunset is here, and their still Eagerly near.
How picturesque the Dolphin,
So innocent and passive.
They have no fear of,
This monstrosity, of war.
Its propellers are killers,
But they do not care.
Like a mother hen,
Or a neighboring friend,
They accompany it, along the way.
If I could be so free,
To choose my days delight,
And leave this war behind.
Man cannot compare,
To the compassion that they bare,
To accompany such a monster,
Just for fun.
Yet I'd truly like to think,
They see the killing floor is near,
And they're sending us into battle,
With their cheer.
And the delusion will suffice,
To keep my mind intact,
And prepare me,
For the horror, which is near.