Isioma,
Dear little Isioma
Pure and stupid
Oblivious to her
Impending expiration on
Lucifer’s imperfect earth.
She lives in smiles
Forced and genuine
Smiles from the pit of hell
Deceptive ones that cruelly masked
Her thinning body.
The morbid retelling of
Your tragedy
Burdens this cold heart
With cynical grief
And the vilest of
prickly longings.
I buried my dreams
In my sleep
And arise to the
Vignettes that create
This reality where
Other realities collide.
The realities are
Ugly. The extension of
Self distortion; the birth of mockery.
A quiet perpetual
Triumph for rabid foolishness.
I watch it all
From my premium
Place of serene Anger
Happy that the resolution seemed
To at last be here
The mind- resolve
The acceptance of my being
And the unsavoury vagaries that
Come with that
Evil Thing
I watch the world
Toss, turn then sleep
Aloof as can be
In need of none
Person or object
Harnessing as much of the beautiful pain
That it feeds me
And nothing touches me
Just as I touch nothing
Nothing knows me
And I know nothing in turn
The world
Bathes in the slime
That marks its
Guilty inventions.
The inventions themselves sons of
Heavy filth that
Thrive unfettered in the
Unventilated innards of
Man’s mental architecture.
The gentle shock
That death affords
Is the mind’s remedy.
A grand mercy
A beautiful solace
From the life and world
That torment it so.
An unending flow
Tap tap tap…
An unceasing tragedy
And all is bludgeoned. All!
