OH, THE HORROR!
1
where in the span
of morning's strife
is the left the room
for filling life,
and where within
chaotic day
can be found time
for simple play?
2
some times the voice
comes in from darkness,
some times the voice
rolls across the years,
some times the voice
resounds as prophet,
sometimes the voice
is beyond our ken
3
where goes a rage diffused
or a madness settled?
are there other zones
which receive these storms
or, like dark Yama, feast
upon the tumult
eagerly imbibing
the fuel of insane hate?
4
are there clues hidden
within the fabric of sight
which speak to fates
and what may come to be?
I can not believe these
when they arise here,
so scarred by betrayal
in all events past
5
surviving in the rubble
of a world destroyed
by mundane malice
puerile spiteful norms
we give up on rescue
and wait for death's arrival
to give us a release
from all this pain
- Brendan Tripp
07/16/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
