Violence doesn’t heal.
Tis a short term thing,
Self-inflicted grief
Building upon agony.
Simmering wreckage,
Quite close to home.
New destruction layered
Upon the old.
Gargantuan pachydermÂ
Calmly sits,
Ignored.
Tag: Poetry
November’s Grace
Glancing upwards now,
A graying sky calming me.
Rain speckles my lens.
Migraine’s Doom
The pain
Is all
That I
Am
Weariness
Inspiration dry.
Exhaustion creeping throughout.
Gray skies crushing me.
Winter’s Breath
Air flows calmly down.
Teeth of winter’s brutal bite
Tranquil snows falling.
Remembrance
Looking within, then through
Towards where wisdom’s born,
Kindly guidance, compassion’s
Grace with an elegant soul now, Now
Echoing silence upon the weathered
Walls of this psyche’s hidden
Corridors. Footsteps which linger
Within that silence. And now I know
They’ll echo within my heart
Eternally.
Crushed Compassion
Huddled upon the floor
Sobbing and bleeding,
Raging flesh’s brutality
Crushes another. Yet
That is not enough. No.
We demand to know
Why this overwhelming force
Was courted, sought. Insanity.
Compassion, perhaps,
Died. Revive it I shall.
Fearfully we start
Any new change bringing dread
Which we must resist
Lost
Feeling lost I gaze
Into the dark nothingness
I am staring back.
Why am I awake?
Rising from my restless mind.
Autumn’s touch comes soon.
Carl Setzer: Word Shaper 