This confession you'd extract from us,
proof of your innocent intent, arrives
couched in its own terms yet remains
wordless... Under a direct gaze cringe
the faultless, naked and quivering. For
they were given a taste of your justice
and sipped at your gushing font of lies.
With no other choice but to go along,
they're now ready for your final blow,
for your crowning glory of stratagems.
Voices in a buffeting storm caterwaul.
Horror and despair do hearts entwine,
weaving the only garment you'll allow,
as a hidden labour bears its final fruit.
Rudderless, our tiny world spins itself
dizzy in the expanding void, a nucleus
ready to implode in meaninglessness,
as an unholy feast scatters the pieces.
YOU ARE READING
Magpie Pearls
Poetry~ This poetic journey started when I began questioning why I write poetry. The assumption I'd come across pearls of wisdom to impart is quickly challenged by readers of "Magpie Pearls", leading me to explore truth in a broader sense. Is truth univer...
