Chaos

Broken glass

Black walls

Gray doors

Thick clouds

Blowing wind

Lonely souls

Rivers of tears

Yellow grass

No talk

Only whispers

A crying baby

Dead mother

A child sits on a leafless tree

Wet-eyed

Staring at the narrow, gravel road

Waiting for something

Expecting a miracle

The Shadow is roaming around

Casting its black reflection

On everything it engulfs

An old man is walking the gravel road

Trying to leave the scene

Leaning on a wooden cane

Making short steps

Not looking back

The graveyard is full of bodies

Some dead, some wish to be dead

What is this?

A faint voice dared to ask

No answer

The town is in the middle

Of nowhere

No hope

No beginning

No end

Just continuous pain

Every now and then

Something moves

Out of pain

From one sort of pain

To another

This is the town of pain

Invisible pain

This town

Is the hidden side

The unseen dimension

Of every town

But no one admits

Peace has become

A rare commodity

It’s left those sorry towns

It’s become very selective

To experience peace

Is to leave the town

Something that’s very challenging

To achieve

While the Shadow is still roaming

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About The Soaring Eagle

Entrepreneur, Investor, Solution Architect, Award-winning poet, Published author
This entry was posted in Death, mystery, Peace. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Chaos

  1. Salma says:

    By the town are you speaking of the place, a town or is the town a reference to society? Or corruption? The town is a metaphor of what?

    • You can pick the metaphor you want. The town is a symbol of the painful side of anything: An individual, a family, a society, a country, the whole world we live in. It’s the side that most of us try to hide, to shove under the rug. The poem is an invitation for transparency: To be same person, whether alone or in public. There are people who enjoy such quality. But I’m not sure about larger congregations. Hypocrisy has become common place in families, corporations, societies, and on and on. To be pure inside out is to become closer to God. That is the path of the few, of the strangers!

      You might ask: But what if the pain was inflicted upon you by others? You would still enjoy that kind of purity at the heart. A place no power can reach or manipulate. This is not easy though, but rather so difficult and trying.

      The Soaring Eagle

  2. Salma says:

    very, very sinister…

    • Sinister it is! It sheds a light on a dimension of life, which people prefer to stay away from in denial. Poetry uses symbols, images, and words to deliver a message, express a feeling, or even unveil a different face of reality. Sometimes those tools get magnified to give a more vivid picture.

      The Soaring Eagle

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