lament ~ France

in silence
i touch the flame flower you have crafted here
in silence

this touches me like myst
eats me like acid

i would that we might correct the wrongs of this world
and no one will say that which you speak in anger
is any kind of balance

even in this moment we need balance

i would that such might never come to pass
i would offer my words behind yours
to give them strength in this electronic wind
but your words are ill considered

revere the sacrifices
for we all might someday be offered the the mad god chaos
and speak not the names of those puppets of vile. . .
speak not their names
for they often seek such adoration and acclaim

as a poet in this darkness
i will speak love

it is all that i can give

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

3 thoughts on “lament ~ France”

  1. And in her arms the madness weeps
    A bitter sand of horror
    She can not heal
    They misunderstand
    She will heal
    Raising eyes in thought in hope
    Love and strength
    In fear repressed in fear suppressed?
    In retrospect
    In a moment
    A moment to stand tall
    To fight hate
    To be proud
    To love again

    Liked by 1 person

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