Shame
poem
Not the fusillade of words that pierce the veins,
Though aching and beating that may remain.
Not a creaseless corner where sounds go still,
Though its oblivion erodes your fountains’ fill.
May be enough to cower the body
and raze the courage.
the fear of a mirror though that shouts of shame,
Running in circles that one never overcame.
Not the burns of lights flashed by mobs,
Smoldering cold in the sea of sobs.
Or the lashes of injustice woven into the world
That leave scars or rip the wounds preserved.
May be enough to halt the chase
Of paths not known or dreams one craves.
But the guilt that blooms inside,
That one failed to bury and never could hide.
Not the betrayals of those who left long,
Though their shadow may weigh you along.
Not the neglect of the battles that one fights,
Or failing of the quests that ended in plight.
May be enough to down the eyes
And forget the view that drapes the sky.
But the shame that soul can’t survive,
Is the one that defeats those alive.
