Undertow

This is a shrine

To the best intentions

The great redesign

For which we are the indemnitee


On foul winds

Blow dead seeds

Planting in the soil of contempt

Fertilized with the mother’s wrath


Have less fear for that which lurks in the dark

The greatest horrors

Shine brightest when exposed

To the stark light of day


Rebuke the ignorance

Of complexity

Trim the fat

Cauterize the wound


The thunderous crashing of waves

Is but the softest show of power

When compared to the tremendous swell

Just beneath the surf


When speech is forced into dark corners

Of even darker speakeasies

Cloak and dagger become the prelude

Of open destruction to come

Leave a Reply

Name and email address are required. Your email address will not be published.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

You may use these HTML tags and attributes:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <pre> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong> 

%d bloggers like this: