Reverse search a pool of blood to its foetus of ideas,
calculate trajectories to a pin-head through the years.
While stippling marks proximity the silenced tongue won’t speak,
for its hell that takes our liberty when damp Earth entombs the meek.
In cavities of ancient skulls the dust of time drowns words
where cave walls once were libraries, now echoes fall unheard.
Where hit-list’s flamed in burn-pits and armies forged their prize,
re-written were our histories and their curses damned our eyes.
Then blinded willingly or not we sweep ahead in time
we carve sacred memorials in elevated rhyme,
and the horrors of reality will not be writ upon this page
as we flounder in our duality it is guilt that we assuage.
©Wolfgar 2019
There’s a density of thought here but the message is clear, and all coming back to that all important dilemma of personal interpretation of massively life changing deeds, which tend to be simplified by those not in the know. To be human is also to be culpable and often this is where the tidal wash of religion takes over…..
Ray
LikeLike
Thankyou Ray. This may be overloaded but my head was about to explode this weekend so I decided to just offload it…I’m not sure it has made me feel any better, but thanks for passing by and making comment.
LikeLike
I have always maintained words can be like an enemy…poetry is often at its very best when it is stripped right back. I think this effort rather proves my theory…more culling in future.
LikeLike
Hi David, you’re right in that clarity can depend on condensed versions of our thoughts – but with the density of emotion words can pour out , like the wringing out of a cloth, and that can be hard to simplify. (No help I know but a confirmation).
LikeLike
Excellent stuff. You packed a lot in three full stanzas. I hope you are doing well.
LikeLike