A Storm Of Destruction
Leaving the wounded within his wake
Confusion rains as he cries wolf, pushing for unsustainability,
Insanity rides the airwaves as he begs for rejection,
Questions are raised about the stability of the communication,
As walls are raised to ward off the incredibility and fight for protection.
******
He’s his own worst enemy as he pushes harder than an enraged bull,
Pleading to be broken, his greatest wish to endure,
He fights when he knows he’s slitting his own throat with the nasty retorts,
Loneliness within his future requested, arrogantly bandied about to ensure.
******
Yet his sleep is left undisturbed, much to everyone’s surprise,
In denial as to his toxic tendencies, his addiction to pain,
Those that surround him beaten blue and bloody,
As his personality abruptly changes; swoons and wanes.
******
Six minutes sees the twist from lover to lifelong enemy,
And yet he cries poor after the attack’s thrown down,
Words twisted, accusations hurled at those that know better,
He takes great joy in turning someone’s smile into a disturbed frown.
******
If only he’d drop his pride, tether his ego, let someone help,
But blinders have widened with his old age,
He looks but cannot see the destruction that follows within his wake,
And others despair that he’s lost his way, wandered cluelessly off the page.
******
Karma bites him hard with consistency and still he wonders why,
As he lazes on the outskirts of society, his humanity buried deep,
Wards are raised within his vicinity, barricades placed strategically,
Glasses offered to open eyes but rejected, as victims forever weep.
*******
Alone in his solitude, encased in delusions,
Fantasy preferable to the reality of pressing endeavours,
The fight diminished until he comes upon one of strength,
Then he battles them to the ground, discarding as he brutally severs.
******
It’s sad to watch him destroy all within his world,
Until all he has left are the demons that ride him hard,
Death and destruction his expertise, in what he takes pride,
Leaving those that loved him, completely shattered and battle-scarred.
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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Comments (5)
Hmmm I do feel sorry for him though. Loved your poem!
He's suicidal. He wants to die. He hates himself and life and everyone. Let him die.
Powerful, definitely a hard road to be on!
Quite the emotional ride, huh? It’s like watching someone spiral, doing their best to ruin everything around them while oblivious to the mess they’re making. It’s tough to see them crash, but even tougher knowing they won’t hit the brakes!
Super social commentary!!! Love it!!!❤️❤️💕