Faye Sizemore

FOOD… NOT OF THE GODS

There is a Beggar
who waits to be fed;
A Visitor from the
Kingdom Of The Dead

The Beggar hovers,
silent in the sun;
Passing in His shadow…
a life cycle is now done

He is a dark figure
standing in the Iraqi sands
and stretching forth to some
…… His bony hands

Soldiers chosen
for this Specter’s band
will never
go home again

For their life,
He does crave…
His dinner table
is at their lonely grave

A feast He does always win…
The grave is sated for now,
until this beggar, Death,
is hungry again…