Rage
Beneath this calm exterior
how can you kow what roils?
Myriad pinpoints of anger
oozing into my core
sharp, and stinging pain
little white-hot streams of lava
Eroding that soft and smiling part of me
I tremble with rage
shaking, as the black mire
of years of hating this hate
clings; wrapping thorny tendrils
about my limbs...
Making unseen wounds
holding me from fleeing -
I crumble with sadness
disappearing into the dark
knowing the cold, hard silence
within impossible walls of fear -
Built strong by the stones of guilt and worry...
I pace, frantic, crying out to no avail...
the wit so sharp it bites you
the mind a razor against your soul
would you dare reach to take my hand
and lead me home again?
To warmth, to love, to laughter
that exists without damage
which has life without punishment
poetry borne of peace
artistic grace untortured
a spirit freed of pain's burning kiss...
K.E.C., 1995