11 October 2009



isn’t scenes of beastly screaming
voices drown a stasis bleeding
forcing choices vilely reeking
where I cling to my own debris

caught within I hear the chaos
chorused in a choral singing
bartered hubris numbs my senses
stripping me of all true feeling

solitary innovation
calmed by complex contemplation
choosing where it will be standing
how to save itself oblivion

no-one knows her more than she does
cheating them of goals outreaching
bringing me to where I’m ceded
alone inside a crowded room

entombed within a baleful vault
no-one leaves and doors are bolted
intellect has trialled and faltered
grieves it wouldn’t have succeeded
© 28 August 2009, I. D. Carswell