Silent Speech

a broken shard of charcoal

will it prove enough to make a man?

when you fold into submission
sighting inference of slight
exacting of your ego’s wrath
upon those thought to interfere

we are all born hypocrites
and so it is that we shall perish

rue the day this truth desists
and pride usurps devised discretion

trumpeter of shadowed triumph
sowing seeds of condemnation
woven with such ornate bombast

propped up by a hollow victim
ever to avail their own

bleeding hearts
are blind with succor

leaving truth to fates unknown

tragedies will find appointment
at the behest most emphatic
negligently inundating
standers-by with self-accord
unafforded
sordid with a dubious deliberation

sortie of self-indulgence

nevermind the sadist fallout
calling out in silent woes

left behind to mind the mayhem
bearing eyes of the observer
patient, with a prudent penchant

knowing time
reveals all

[image credit: Anna and Elena Balbusso]

Author: Max Meunier

Feminist. Ailurophile. Musician. Poet. Human.

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