evening lavender

 

If history could teach us anything,
would anyone listen?
it would not, could not possibly,
squelch that itchy, curious impulsivity

To loosen a rusted, crusty lid
releasing Sorrow, Sickness, and War.
assured, the Gifts await
a clever mind’s temptation

As tin soldiers eat cake
and foul-mouthed warriors
breathe and bellow life
into deadened coals

Could History un-travel the paths
leading hordes to Fate’s end?
with promises of Beauty and
Glory?

They couldn’t hear either

Words, pale and weak, floating,
hovering like gnats around reddened ears,
clotted with grey, overgrown hair,
Righteous, ripe in Ignorance

Would History unravel, uncoil,
unspoil vines wound about
berries sweetly fragrant
alive for this moment?

What cynic believes a peek
into the clairvoyant vortex wouldn’t,
couldn’t prevent unimaginable
Suffering?

Even with the tender release of
Hope, wafting sweetly, swaying
in a lavender mist,
did History fail its reward?

For you and I
curious, alive,
unrelenting in our passions,
became our past

After all.

4 thoughts on “Inaudible

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