THE MUSIC OF TRAUMA

by on April 8, 2017 :: 0 comments

Now,
in the ghetto

no time is sacred,
no time safe.

Death
comes now at 1st light & through the luminescence of day

flowing
into night

after dark
after light.

Death
comes, evil speaks

Brave one; listen to the rhapsody of death.

Pop, pop, pop in bestial hip-hop.

Gunshots shriek
& find the meek

pitch-black darkness
illuminated

&
life obliterated

sentenced
to otherworldly silence & mortal absence in the swirl of ethereal extinction

for
this is the time you taste the music of trauma

&
feast on fear.

This
is the time you bathe in crimson water

&
taste the underbelly of sin.

This
is the time you hear the eerily everlasting music drowning in the key of death.

This
is the time of the shattering

here,
inside the rhapsody & the requiem

&
a stranger sings of non-being

while
gunshots gut the grotesquerie of night & gallop into the deformity of day.

This
is the time to vanish in the music of trauma.

This
is the time to die & fly away.

editors note:

We scare them into wanting escape, then give them nowhere to go. – mh clay

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