Tonight I will paint
a photo you have often seen,
a world that has always been,
with fear creeping
in the skin under your nails,
in the cries and the wails,
in every plea that fails.

Tonight I will paint
a mirror for every thought,
a hurt that cannot be forgot,
with horror hiding
in the fear of all who run,
in yarns of hatred swiftly spun,
in wars fought and lives undone.

Tonight I will paint
a vision of rampaging herds,
a victim struggling for words,
with rage rising
in every shrieking speck of mud,
in the fierce fury of the flood,
in the rabid red of my blood.

Another offering — with similar rage — for your perusal here
This is a response to the
Imagà Imaginings prompt by Tamyka Bell.

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