Carnage and Creation
The carnage has ceased
The wind long since fallen limp
The fiery storm no longer orchestrating a rampage,
has abandoned its mission grim.
Tearing here, twisting there, brutally raging a scuffle everywhere.
The ruins are scattered like belongings in a careless teenager’s room.
Every wound open, the scars deep raw and bleeding, howling over the doom.
I sit there amidst the debris like a barmy in tatters.
The beautiful edifice collapsed, in batters.
The remains lay scattered, screaming , screeching , twisting in anguish.
This all that is left, a handful of sand from the castle, I languish.
The past is gone and lost in time
No ramblings in if’s why’s and but’s of life can ever bring it back alive.
So, I cling on to the relics like a mother cuddling her sick child in dark.
Never has been there a more urgent dread.
These remnants are mine to call, they never left my side.
What if even these fade?
Only these scraps were mine, the rest just an illusion of a wandering mind.
There aren’t any roof to keep out the rain, but sun still shines bright and not in disdain.
I still can brave another day, build a structure on these snippets.
A modest edifice, airy and clean, with room enough for all my dreams.
