Choose Fools Wisely

Call me a coward,
And so I am.
Call me naïve,
And that I am too.
But tell me I’m wrong,
And you have wronged yourself,
You’ve hidden in self-deceit,
You’ve propagated delusion.

I am no genius,
But a fool, I am not.
I am no warrior,
But a deserter, I am not.
Wake up, smell the blood,
See that it is spilt in vain.
Search the cheeks of the broken
For shrapnel left from tinny tears.

Tell me again, how they are warranted.
Enlighten me of your twisted sense of justice.
Stake your novel claim upon the pillaged
Territory we call Humanity.
Washed up on its fruitless shores,
Convince the marooned of your superiority.
By all means, ignore the lone traveler who knows
That flagpoles now stand where life once took root.

His Mind is a Storm

His mind is a storm

Snarling and shifting, screaming release

Caught up in a cold, concealed cave,

Echoing with the thunder of bruised thoughts.

His eyes will not stand,

No, not any longer,

For the wretched lies

Choking out throats

Of cackling bastards

Who cannot speak,

Rather hurl half-truths covered in venom

Fizzing and fading like neon signs.

His eyes will not,

Can not,

Stand the pain

Any longer.