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About the Poem

I wrote this June 11, 1998 after watching a story on the news concerning a gang related shooting. A three- year old girl was accidentally shot when three men attempted a drive- by on a rival gang member.

Manifest Hate

Quarterly, thy heart doth ache.
I hear thee, my son.
Thy anguished cries piercingly remind me of that which has never been.
Nor could it ever be, at least, not conceivably in my human mind.
Admittedly weak and enfeebled, such is the way of infamy.

I pray for thy peace.
Unanswered as it has always been, and always shall be, if mine eyes deceive.
Of course, ‘tis true.
The blackness of my soul forever expands, obscuring the path lain before me.
Thus, only devils’ words I will hear.
Their hellish voices instill fear.

‘Twas said, . . . blind leading the blind.
Now it seems the blind can see.
All too clearly, however untrue their eyes may be.
With sure feet, they tread on golden streets, a trail of lead left in their wake.
Heavenly dust loses luster, and is swept away by winds more fearsome
than Satan himself.
Thus, the truth is known, but much too late.
Silent looming manifest hate.
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© 1999 Nathan Olney Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.

4 Visitor Comments

Excellent poem, i've had it for years. I'm starting a website called Existentialism. And it's a website for all types of artists.
I like this poem. I'm not to sure of the intention but the emphasis was if everything was too late. I don't know but that just makes you want to make the difference. Be the individual spreading good in the world
This si thie best poem i have ever seen

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