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The World
August 15, 2016
The world
in all its splendor
is not built of gold
It is not rosy sunrises
and punch out stars
The world is built
of writhing corpses
and violent winds
of bloody twilights
and bloodier dawns
The world is
terror
racing through veins
seared into hearts
each blood cell branded
with its own calling card
The world is
walking barefoot
across broken beer bottles
skin forever lost
in the simple struggle
of never slipping
The world is
the only place in a galaxy
you'll find bandages
© Sara P., Lake Mary, FL
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This was written in a desire to write beauty, without abandoning truth. One of the great truths is that the world itself is how painful it is, yet it's the only place to find solace.