what’s this "poem" about?

From the void comes a cry,
not wild or a thing of nature
but muffled as the mangled soul, polluted.
Its distorted waves hit the pure and the serene, disturbing.
But in the sterile blankness
of the mind that has
itself rejected, as the coward it is, the harmony–
the nobility in man with plain clothes
or the untouched beauty outstanding in the blemished face.
In this what remains of the marvel–
the neurons and the dopamine and the need for a consort–
the cry from the void is hailed, unfathomed.

There are no comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: