I Picture It Soft (and I ache)

For some minds to lunacy
For others to regency of contempted torpor
A fierce condition by which the eternal melancholy of resistance lurks perhaps so vast a majority of ghostly destruction in every chaotic turmoil
The vicious retort out of fear
Swallowed up
Squandered away
Down the drain, in the gutter, by the city
Opium Confessions
Shot to dust without a whisper
And it comes with a banshee call
Fire can warm or consume
(change it must, but limp you are)
Water can quench or drown
(stop expecting out of it)
Wind can caress or cut
(shake up the soot and just settle, just settle down)
The Human Error
Unnurtured and traumatized
The certainty of misery rather than the misery of uncertainty
Another cockroach, another day
Another problem that you can't get away