The Wounds in The World

  

Gratifying the irrational.

Fear,

becomes sustenance.

Feeding off you.

Feeding off me

and making more.

Quiet the zombie tongue.

The one that seeks

to taste your flavor.

Internal dialogue

runs over and over

in your head,

in your heart.

You are every crime

the world has ever

committed.

Bitter and ashes

in your mouth,

with a taste of iron.

There is no way out.

Guilt will drive you

into the arms

of a fallen angel,

who’s been waiting

to accept you.

Known it all along.

We’re all yearning

for a savior,

just not one that makes us

take responsibility

for the wounds in the world.

So, we become

acolytes of fear,

councilors in paranoia.

Knowing the beginning

of the end

is close at hand.

We feed every piece

of ourselves

to the monster

that lurks in our own heads.

Tied

to the cycle.

Paralyzed,

as we watch it come around

again.

 

 

HG – 2022

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