almost a year ago
i last poured pieces of my scarlet
soul
on the page
like the cycles of the moon
I drift
lost at sea
tidal waves of thoughts suppressed
numbed
the fury is still just beneath the surface
lapping at the edges of
normality
frustration is drowned out
by the hollow echoes
a cavernous whole
stripped
bare
wired
connected
to the nothingness that always was
it
comforts
heals
dew drops
fall
holy water
from
eyes long blind to the
Taqwa
of the days gone by
Bygones
do not necessitate
forgiveness
so
distant
sounds
the rallying cry of our youth
wins
in the shadow of our
present
shrinking violets
have no place
there is no room for variations
scarlet
is the color of
my true love's
soul.