I picture the massive tragic casualties,
The result of our flame-led, unfiltered carnage.
Such a portrait can only be haunting..
An image that replays in the darkness..
Often I desire to to experience others' realities
As they all seem much more simply managed.
Perhaps, I'll adapt a false deity worth exalting..
Loathe screaming but hate when this prison falls silent..
I exhaust my fragile mental faculties,
Sorting through all that's shattered or damaged.
Such assault seems endless; it's insulting..
The broken dialogue that echoes in the quiet..
YOU ARE READING
Curses of a Poetess
PoetryThis is a shorter collection of my original poems. None here have been shared anywhere else. And all were written during one sitting in a spell of writing passion on October 13, 2017. Enjoy!
