Tragic Days

Walls go up for the hell

that dwells deep in my head

that sweeps the bowels of

my stomach and rises dead.

I take in the inferno blue

that burns hotter so choose

I do the tunes that churn

moments I can live through.

So damn manic so I panic

the day played out not well.

The walls are tall so welcome

not to my guarded fairy-tale.

Secret I keep it so close my

overtures of revelry in heaven;

physical touch my God expects

a part of my bread to leaven.

But a sorrow sweeps my soul

inside a desert expanse a field

of my joyful dreams is where

my inner devils are revealed.

I cry inside my head so you

can not nor ever will see,

that I cry deep inside my heart

for my demons to let me free.

Maybe it will be enough for me

once I expel the leviathan down

back to the unspoken parts of

my inner sanctum not to be found.

Children weep in the streets

of my city up up and away stay.

I turn to just listen to them

unsettled on this tragic day.

4 Comments Add yours

  1. SRIKANTH says:

    Wonderful poem JW ! Keep writing ✍️ 🤝

    Liked by 2 people

    1. JW says:

      Thank you for the encouragement. That is always good to hear and thank you again.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Secrets says:

    So good Jared. Stanza 5 and 6, particularly spoke to me.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. JW says:

      Thank you Secrets. I appreciate you.

      Liked by 2 people

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