8

Warped

against this vile scourge of electronic

mayhem 

Byzantine patterns of screaming

truth pour out bloody into

the frozen maw of bitter silence

Is it real?

What the hell does it make you feel?

Pedestrian presentations

I guess

Poorly connected puzzles

of inside jokes and shattered

self image

Long strings of graceless inanity

best left ignored

No one seeking shelter

will be admitted after the storm comes down

It's just too much

It's just mourning

flesh ripped delicately off the bone

and discarded

Is this what you dropped out of life to attend to?

Has it been worth it?

Any insincere embrace is much better

Than rotting blankets in the church yard shadows

They built great and grand temples to Minerva back then

Never understanding what she was pointing at

Times haven't changed much.

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Warped indeed, a great look at movement and peace.

[Brandon S. Whitten]

Good read and write.

[Ezel_Amaru]

Great Piece
Your first stanza was visual and intrigued my curiosity
the rhymes gave the story a beat
well written

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

Is eight the numerological equivalent of wisdom?
Your first stanza seems to depict the poem itself, and the nature of the work, raging against the post modern era with a conservative view.
The next bit, asking, "Is it real" seems more in mockery than honest asking, I.e., "you're really questioning the existence of God?"
That's the premise for my interpretation-- you saying that judgement day is coming and it is better to have believed in the slightest than to have run from the church (as an atheist).
Furthermore, you say that faith is wise, going back to Pascal's wager, which is a pretty present theme here.
The imagery is vibrant and deathly gorgeous, especially in the first stanza. However, I wont poke you with my god-stick here.