At The Edge

assign to life to sow and die
they seed with wanton glee
the long and fertile loamy furrows
His will to plant the dragon teeth
to live, to grow to thrive so strong
fated to slaughter and cull his brothers

they scream with righteous rage
not knowing why or how they grew
the meaningless white anger
uncoiling like fireworks within
hitting nerves numbing their hearts
turning them into killing machines

the desert floods with liquid magenta
the dirges congregates on thin air
mingle in poignant sadness and fades
leaving nothing but sighs of despair.