poem:"you will hear me" (10apr17)

static still in a moment of horror
the world explodes
unwillingly and complete
cacophony of screams
and abrupt stillness
and fragility
exploited
on black top
in pews
in prayer
in moments

if one asks you what death's cause
look not to its instruments
but in its narcissism
ego raw, dripping of the
insipidness
not to be explored

seeing the world
as nothing more
than blots of shadow
and never lights of triumph
of our collective will
for a moment of peace

emptiness aching in
madness of the one
the ticking incessant
and we pay the price
for a crusade
in
one
head

Eric Lacombe .