Poetry

Song In The Air:

Through the tunnel of the ear,
A simple trek that allows that speck
Of sound to intrude and resound
In my mind, the song of war and all abhorred,
Echoing not the pain of the martyr, but the
Stain of his bleeding heart.
And this is the tool, the fuel that drives
The energy inside that thrives to
Survive this attempt at contempt, striving
To cease this despair within, desiring
To release the angry air unto the whip
Of the lip and tongue, lashing the hurt that’s been sung
Into the endless path of what cannot be undone,
And all this wrath, entangled in the trying to be rid
Of the defying tone that has strangled your own,
Breathless of meaning, as the demeaning intruder
Sets nest in the heart where it rests until the
Resolve is no longer to evolve from it a stronger
Pain, but to solve, and let hope remain.
-Kim Markham

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