Monday, 11 February 2013

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 
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
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