by Arnold Hollander
Music is ethereal, it haunts me every day;
It follows me from place to place as I go on my way.
From wakening in the morning until I rest my head,
I hear its airs incessantly describe my constant dread.
Lavish tones surround me amid ruins and remains,
Ornately hung pipe organ trills from phantom opera strains.
This music’s not to savor and its odor’s quite unique;
The shrill tones get my hair up, and bodies start to reek.
I put my mask back on as I continue down the road,
Finding them and bagging, my team has quite a load.
This war became insane, throwing nukes into the fight.
It’s left us, the survivors, in a nuclear midnight!
Copyright © 2007 by Arnold Hollander