Our Screams are Tacit

Whisper, my love. Speak passion alive. Awaken a subtle
Sensation, for the heart is whimpering. We’ve forfeited
Dreams: our renege on prayer. Thus, gaze: our screams are
Tacit: they utter symbols. Tiptoe the distance—for the fields
Are explosive. Carnage and blood floods the life. Spears
Thrust the soul. And tears suffocate the lungs. A blackdamp
Has drowned our future. A marksman has granted us death.
Yet alive we suffer—utter chaos.

Whisper, my love. Feel the effusion—the love is broken. Our
Memoirs, the ink of blood. Our memories, the taste of acid.
And seismic fractures rupture spirit. Welts swell the psyche.
We’ve forfeited dreams: our renege on prayer. Yet the soul
Soars for love. Thus a fireball, such friction. Where the
Mystique colors anguish. And pain streams the universe.