Letters effaced from a page
its edges curl like closing claws
In plumes of knowing hells fires rage
so fierce the flames preceding war
Ashen clouds deprived of rain
will drift then break to fall like snow
and there forgotten words remain
awaiting minds in which to grow
© Wolfgar 2020
Notes from life 
A great poem, David.
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Words and ideas will always survive
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We must hope they do John…I pretty sure they are hard to kill, Thanks.
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Ah words and ideas unacceptable to the narrow minds that seek to repress us. What is just as depressing is the random indulgence of them too – so as remove any impact of thought. You of course would know that !
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Thanks Ray, those who try to repress us often dress themselves up in respectability and speak in gentle tones. They are the most dangerous types, they who value their own freedoms to speak whilst riding roughshod over the rights of others…their feeble attempts to crush history by claiming enlightenment sicken me, they are pathetic. That said those idiots have succeded in crushing some of my spirit and enthusiasm for the medium of poetry. Some of the most selfish and unkind people I have ever been unfortunate to communicate with claim to be poets and free thinkers. I venture that some of them pop in here from time to time to observe thier handy-work…well done I say to them, their actions only succeed in ensuring that those they silence turn to less peaceful means to convey their disenchantment, maybe that is exactly what they want.
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