new depressing poetry shit as usual.. i call this one...
POST DISASTER
Soft whispers escape from tightly clenched lips
slowly caressing what is my spirit into submission.
Those left behind may be considered the meek.
Artistic expressions awarded
By exchanging cancer for answers.
One trechary replaced for another
interpretation suggested,
but formally rejected.
God has a million of my request's pended
but still no reply, to the one eternal burning question
of what is to become of my redemption,
Or a maybe just a hidden message written in code
impact of our matter, unknown.
Until one triumphant tragedy brings a close to the ultimate finale,
Our fatal depravity.
Which hopefully holds the truth to our long awaited reality
along with some answers and explanation to our post disaster travesty
Giving us our penance to the life we've lived
and whats to then follow there after.