Equally… Against a third…
One reality… Seeking survival
Against two dissenting thirds…
A triangular truth… Examined… And found wanting
One side
That must decide
Itself to save from a certain crush
Discovered in its infinity
It does not need to be
One of three
To survive
And realize
Its hundred eighty degrees…
Circumscribing my world…
Remnant pains gathering to haunt
The empty bowels of my senses…
Contrary voices screaming at my every nerve…
Shattering to its core
A now fragile equilibrium…
Headache
Heartbreak
Brutal pain
A soul violently divided
Wrestling insanity…
Voices…screaming hurt…hurt…hurt
□ □ □ □
For the distant aching in my mind…
For the remnant pains that would overwhelm
And divide with their violence
The core of my world…
For the screaming voices
That indulge in the ugly orgy
Of what appears a pending destruction…
A firmer…more potent voice
That speaks in a divine restraining order…
Saying…“Peace…Be still…
This is my beloved child…”
It is the season of giving. It is that time again when we focus on acts of charity that we hope will bring joy to others, and a sense of co...
