• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 08

A Scream Unheard

This world is drowning,
oblivion never felt so close,
no longer a stranger to the strangle
of the Octopus's tentacled choke.
I sit counting the bodies like bread crumbs
scattered for the birds to eat.
I hear the muddled screams echoing from sea,
a torn admonishment
to turn and embrace eternity.
But men do not hear,
captive to desire, the rotting flesh.
Men are stuck in their ways,
a fish on a hook,
a heartless body,
a cold crashing wave.


A Scream Unheard

A scream echoes from the sea,
reverberating growls in the bowels of earth,
but the bellow goes unheard,
for men are busy kissing bullets
and dancing with rage.
Grudges unresolved provoking fist clench
like the mouth of a shark on prey.
Still the sea screams, thundering in hope
to awaken the slumberous strangers to peace.
Cacophonous sounds rise like Poseidon
from the waters,
yet men turn deaf ears to the cries,
resisting the bell that blares
like a wind gust in a rainstorm,
a restless ache in bones,
a siren to warn the world's warmongers,
who worship paper and pledge allegiance
to the gun,
who in willful neglect reject the truth within.

A scream echoes from the sea
shaking the red earth,
but the bellow is not heard,
and the tremble is not felt.