On the Eve of a New Heart

Brighten my cold cavern, every crevice
with your distant atomic flash.
Melt away the frozen particles
of stubborn animosity, cowardice, fear.
Belshazzar sits at the side,
knees now knocking one against the other
as he witnesses the foreboding script.
His fate is the fate of Herod
and countless other would-be dictators,
once confident in their cruel reign
over the enslaved souls of men.
Come to me and burn deep inside
with your distant atomic flash.
Every vestige of me a fading memory,
every despairing tear removed,
and now every morning, new mercy.
Let the revolution start!



A reflection upon the following image from Read Write Poem prompt #107.