Such is the scandal that has become my conscience,
I find scant respite from the confrontations with those
who know I seek absolution.
This nightmare, an awakening to a reality only a nip of
something stronger alcoholic can make palatable.
Languid and despairing I find the truth of the abandoning
of my family and friends.
An clear, inglorious reflection of my character.
If violence is truly an obsession of our time it is a curiosity
of sinister and callous magnitude.
It is an sick habit of those who claim to be adults.
Thought and its exchange is now an offense.
It is the whine of the worlds children.
In these lands where unbridled hatred is the weapon
of the hypocrites whose self acclaimed genius strikes me
as the final portentous saddening of a world made delirius
where the lives of the downtrodden are without love,
where the angels of my past leave me in the cold pallour
of paranoia.