Birth/Insalem
Springing down, upon and forth to the inevitable.
There is no other to say where and which tale;
To begin, confused and saying his mind to the land
His destruction’s begun without the obvious being too bland.
This word’s manifest his discontent and their malevolence.
No frequent to church, no sorrow nor repentance.
There is choice, no freedom from consequential decay.
On and on they torture with silence, a game from day to day.
And we saw the birth of silence womb; the Savior to himself.
Pitting the invisible bonds against one another; against himself.
In this repetitious display come the senses alive to break them.
Flickers of life-light give way to the insalem.
Insalem
Her beauty so damn enticing, tears apart at his seams.
The weakness he defends through those lifeless beams.
Shafts of light and dazzling arrays, his sight broken.
She beckons the weak and with ease breaks him.
Screaming, through pains and invisible vices of death.
Alone in fury and death, no more life to his death.
Out pours that rage, that hidden form of beauty
bringing this new crowd to their knee.
Fisted triumphance awakens his veins and her deeds perish.
And again he is born to dissolve the anguish.
Creative writing class, senior, 1999.
