Calamitous Beats

Drums beat beyond the horizon.

Oh, young lad, step out of the way

before the waves sweep you to eternity,

a mental state you cannot escape!

It’s dreadful, I tell you,

the sights of ash and smoke,

the sounds of a brother shrieking,

“The blood, the blood, oh, I beg you, take me home!”

and there’s always the possibility he’ll not return.

If I could find the words to describe,

I would not for your sanity's sake,

for the remaining innocence inside your heart.

Poor fellows who know

lock themselves in memory’s tragic cage;

titanium bars and a lost key banish

the chance of freedom for each soul,

scarred in flesh and purpose.

They hear laughter, but struggle to voice their own;

smiling is an effort, a forged promise

that everything will be fine,

but when the door-hinge creaks

trepidation sparks:

involuntary violent fireworks.

Listen to their nightly mantra,

“When will the nightmare end?”

Stepping past the threshold once,

the brave and sacrificial are lured

into a dynamite trap, and then bolted in

they are haunted immortally.

Brows tense, warmth is only safety,

and the traumatized sigh

is the most melody produced

since that last morning

they sang “What A Wonderful World”.

Sorrowful populace

marches to its deathbed now,

unbriefed of the excruciation ahead,

unprepared for immutable sleep

or wake’s vexation.

Look at their faces,

lighthearted expressions engrossed in daydreams;

dancing amidst the cattails,

kisses in the rain, convivial songs in the air,

joining the children’s laughter.

Heroic endings are also morbid,

you must understand.

Where is glory in an innocent man’s last breath?

Oh, piteous fault of mine for explaining,

but I must halt your footsteps,

so please, hear me, boy so young,

life presents itself to you- grasp it tightly!

I pray, do not be a fool unaware, like I

who pays the price of living

in timeless grief.

All things good, why did I follow?

Sweet child, I fear the beat of my own heart.