"Across The Fault Line"

"Across The Fault Line"
By: Brendan Cadman 



Across the jagged and broken fault line,
on either side of a land torn in two.
Factions of natives congregate to discuss,
their narrow and like-minded points of view. 

Across the rough and uneven fault line,
two tribes lived in lands of circumstance askew.
For the left basked in the golden blaze of the sun,
with the right illuminated by the pale rays of the moon.

Across the ragged and tattered fault line,
the same perpetual song was sung,
in a slightly different tune.
One tribe woke in rolling darkness,
the other in beautiful and glistening sunlight,
not knowing what it took to walk in the others shoe.

Across the shattered and split fault line,
the flowers of resentment began to blossom, 
fearing the lifestyle each side had chose.
Rivers contaminated by poisonous venom, 
by the words of hate spread like a virus,
it was fear and ignorance that allowed hate to grow.

Across the smashed and cracked fault line,
the bubbling tension gave way to ugly violence,
as the tribes turned the green grass red.
They kicked, they punched, they shot, they stab,
fighting tooth and nail against what they did not understand,
until all but two were dead.

Across the widening and consuming fault line, 
death began to grasp its icy grip around their necks,
as the two men struggled to wheeze their final agonizing breaths,
In their final moments the men took a look around,
as their teary eyes surveyed the ravaged and burning land,
commiserating on the dreary state of what was left.

Across the flawed and imperfect fault line,
the man on the left quivered as the day,
and his life began to fade. 
The man on the right tried with all his might,
to runaway from the coming light.
Though what the other saw wasn't quite as simple,
than what the men could ever possibly foresee. 
As the end grew near one man saw the sun go down,
while the other witnessed the moon rise up,
and at last they realized,
what they were never awake to see.