beauty in destruction

in a dream,
a stream of visions

one after the other,
they smother-
colours, faces, noises

a million and one voices

each speaking in

different tongues

I try to breathe 

but my lungs

won't take in the air 

the voices,

keep on unaware

of my suffering 

i'm mustering 

the courage to go on 

i make choices

but sometimes I can't 

because I can't 

speak 

and I can't speak 

because this tongue 

is possessed

and i'm distressed

because the words
won't come out
but still

 I can't complain,
I can't moan,

for this mouth is on loan

from the one, and I have to run

with it. But I lose myself
at times

I shout silently

into the crowds

my lungs weary 

and empty

there is beauty 

in destruction 

and when I can't function

I understand it

the beauty

it's moody 

but calm 

it comes in waves

and it's hard not to drown

but the harder it becomes

the wider I smile 

at the tourists 

of the world 

thoughts gone wild

human kindness

is overwhelming

and each smile 

heals something inside me

it makes me want to be

better,
it makes me want to hug a leper

so till i can, I will,
smile and fight for the right 

to live, to be happy and grateful 

there is beauty in destruction

in this production 

of darkness

bad things come in a series

one after another 

each worse than the other

but there is beauty in destruction

believe me,
this beauty
comes after complete and utter
self-combustion.