Within Winter

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Everything is calmness outside
Snow covers the world’s imperfections
Silencing the roar of reality
Squelching the insignificant.

Inside, though, is turmoil.
Hands too long idle turn to violence.
Hearts too long stifled turn to vengeance.
Inside, imperfections are magnified and reality rears its head and roars.

Inside my heart is turmoil
Threatening to overflow.
I try to cover the battlefields
And cool the anger
With a snowstorm in my soul
Or wait for spring.





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DesolateDoorknob said...
Aug. 18, 2011 at 12:00 am
very nice, I enjoy how you use your words in this piece of work.
 
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