Catharsis In Carnage – a poem

Let us sweep the grand board

Of all pieces, the new Spring beauty

That brings only restlessness fiery

Has long bided time afore in the dark,

Days of winter held drive, yet hark,

We soon ride.

*

This coldness, sunk so deep within

The bone marrow, serves as self-evident

Evidence that Spring’s new beauty

Can not nor shall ever quell those

Salespeople of dreams strangerous,

Or nightmares nefarious.

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