The Travesty That Engulfs The Truth
I pray for stillness
Like the serrated grass
underneath my burning feet
always running away
from the toppling monoliths
I scream for quietude
underneath my mechanistic tirade
and haul out my splintered bones
immersed in the fusillade
If I burn the ivories
would I be coaxed to stop?
If I purge my bountiful dreams
will I dream in white?
I hide from the haunting,
and scamper through ravines
and in their camouflage
my heart is a quagmire
Follow me into this furlough
into my bygone and begotten
and when my ambivalence
reveals it grotesque soul,
just let me break and
follow me into the hallow
when fixing is out of control
I heed for defense -
for wrath and revenge
more than I ask for the truth
because in the end
in its veracious starkness,
like in this unleashed yearning,
it was never worth
all the unsurpassable breaking.
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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