Coming into being
By R.M. Engelhardt
Midnight. Domestic violence and hip hop shaking the
windows free of sleep.
Disturbed creatures laughing & singing in the
hallways with the echoes of drunken stupidity.
Jack’s old angels don’t come here anymore, barren of
all love and jazz, exulting no happiness or
joy but only decay. City televisions blare with
overseas casualties, games of hide and go seek with
terrorists & madmen manifesting themselves as heroes. But would
death answer all of your questions?
Wasting all of your days away trying to figure out a
reason why? Small minds put politics into
everything and steal our most sacred lives over & over
again and throughout time, evolution not withstanding.
But beyond all this is the quiet serenity of coming
into being, a place where they can never touch you, or
A place called “peace”