Drifting in the terrible scream
Of a trembling explosion. Neat
Victims seeming to shimmer in the melting heat
Before thudding crisply dead as in some padded dream.
Water’s pure rainbow sucked dry into steam
At the elemental border. Manufactured order, Great
Like an old War, its fire squandered from the grate,
Fractures as Nature’s chaotic unfettered seam
Is mined in a panoply of rising octaves.
Life craves for it’s own empty, forced continuance
With every dirt soaked breath a horrid struggle
Until that essential calm meets and greets us to our graves.
A tidy randomness that not even the web of Science
Can stave off. Just ensure the space in-between isn’t dull.