Sagacious words

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary. ~ Khalil Gibran

Wednesday, 23 January 2013


The screams echo only in the light,
In the darkness they just become a wall of noise.

The softness of the familiar, grates
Against the cutting blades broken into rough shards.

The strange voices are loud.
The moments reflect crescendos-
And silence in perfect harmony.
Gently the monsters speak,
In tones that are too harsh
To let the trickery go unnoticed.

That was their plan but it was just a formality.
Really they don't care at all, it just doesn't matter.
Everything might have mattered, before-
It was all said and done but it never really would.

The shaking images, sounds and echoes of emotion,
The never-ending play of pain,
All comes to a sudden halt.
That's it, the nightmare is over for another day.
The horrible dream which makes absolutely no sense.
Who- Why are they doing this? What do they want?!

The morning as stark as ever.
Bright and eerily simple.
Just the way it was supposed to be
But would never be again.


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