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Spreading love and light across the sea. 

Blood in the mist

12/29/2017

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Picture
The poem below is about the dolphin slaughter in Taiji, Japan. Every year from September through March, dolphins are driven into the infamous killing cove and either selected for captivity or slaughtered. For more information, please check out Dolphin Project and Sea Shepherd Conservation Society. Photo Source: Sea Shepherd Conservation Society
Laying under the starless sky,
wondering how things went from right to wrong.
Wiping the tears from your eye,
wondering when people will hear your sad song.

Banging your head against the wall,
wondering when this madness will come to an end.
Crying from loneliness and missing their calls,
wondering why those you loved are dead.

Imprisoned behind pallid bars,
wondering when things will turn from wrong to right.
Drowning and covered in scars,
wondering how they sleep at night.

Sink and sway slowly,
watching your soul float away.
Shudder and scream so lonely,
as blood needlessly sprays.

Hope, it doesn’t exist
when all that you love is torn and beaten,
buried in the grave, with blood in the mist.
In this world, there are only demons.

Laying in a cold and empty cell,
praying that somebody will come to your side.
Screaming in your private hell,
praying that they’ll see through those empty lies.

Sink and sway slowly,
watching your soul float away.
Shudder and scream so lonely,
while blood needlessly sprays.

Hope, it doesn’t exist
when all that you love is torn and beaten,
buried in the grave, with blood in the mist.
In this world, there are only demons.

Green is the color that makes the world talk,
that makes the water turn red.
Oh yes it’s not the man but the money that walks,
and why so many are dead.

Blood lingers in the breeze.
Children scream as their family is slaughtered;
countin’ dollars is the carnival of sleaze.
Money is the real monster.

Is there any way out?
Out of these blood-soaked seas?
A lighthouse to guide us and ease our doubt,
a fire to give warmth before we freeze?

Sink and sway slowly,
watching your soul float away.
Shudder and scream so lonely,
while blood needlessly sprays.

Hope, it doesn’t exist (can we find the way out)
when all that you love is torn and beaten (of this desolate hell?),
buried in the grave, with blood in the mist (Bodies are piling up).
In this world, there are only demons (Does anyone care at all?).

Sink and sway slowly,
watching your soul float away.
Shudder and scream so lonely,
while blood needlessly sprays.

Hope, it doesn’t exist
when all that you love is torn and beaten,
buried in the grave, with blood in the mist.
In this world, there are only demons.
​
Can we find the way out,
out of this desolate hell?
Bodies are piling up,
does anyone care at all?
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    Author

    Zach Affolter is a filmmaker, writer, and environmental advocate. He is currently the Resident Sustainability Adviser at Humboldt State University, and has served as a youth representative for Dolphin Project, Peta2, Earthrace, and Global Wildlife Warriors. 

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