Wreckage

One day I will find that vacuum that can contain the fury of my tears.
The space that will not corrode with bitter truths I cannot yell.

Of all the helpless voices rising above the clattering clamoring din-
and collective silence of our universal conscience
the Greatest Punishable Sin.

Each fear a demon set free-sanctioned to Swallow me;
the way they did countless others while I benightedly slumbered.
Every controlled sigh, every heaven bound glance in despair
distinctively created to shatter me.

A treasure held in the heart of the earth;
cries,pleas,frustration,desperation all unheard.
Among the chaos of the crowds-tormentors,
dementors and memories aloud
crawling to be consumed,
vertigo in quagmires of loss.

One day I will find that vacuum that can contain
the fragments of my being;
Wisps of anguish,
frail strokes of hushed vengeance and all sore sights unseen.
The space that will let me sketch with Innocent crimson blood
We are the Free Disinherited.

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