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Cremation of Souls

Silent
Pakaveli

As fear is looked dear, straight in the eye
animosity builds with strides of carelessness that collides
taunting breeding, Hurtful feelings good-bye
Waived on a decadent plateau of emancipated tears and lies
seeking of a reason for these unanswered questions
Laying helpless on thy floor covered with bruises of ones perfection
Battered dimension, trampled in digression
She searches ever more still she is a lost cause even in her reflection.
She rises to fall, crumbles to crawl
The grip of Satan chokes with such a vice grip, she see's none at all
The ocean settles crash, with a deceiving splash
For she hopes for one day to be free as the waves, free at last
Viewed as a failure, treated like a slave
The world of world war 2 relives, She only runs to live in her own grave
Her fragile fingers brush against the sands hold
Carried to her own palace of freedom, not as a life but as a cremated soul

“A cremated soul is a soul in peace”

The sapling that had thrust away the branches of care
That had snared the very essence of despair
Stared now at the outspread allegory of love
The pin pointed needles that stained the dove
Gloves made from quintessences of Satan
Drove wild boars in communities of Haitians
Quailed minds that had married love now laughed
As the alienated brethren further expired and starved
The lone sauntering shadow of a man who once breathed
Sheathed the charmed blade and then it grieved
Grieved at the state of the place that was once in grace
The place that now resembles a form laced by mace
Hindered to form beauty into a harrowing scene
The body oozes the flesh at the cremation of its being

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