Demon’s Drop
By Peter Scott
Happiness to sadness
He waited to plunge
From a battle
Bruised with marks of mixed results
Clinging to one idea one concept
Nearly touched
Through pragmatic reality
In front was evidence
Around was further realization
Cold his heart felt
Jaw clenched around loneliness absolute
Isolation in the medial of a family
His family
Baitingly he revived a dream
Sweet his lips pursed
Mettle tested
Over a fire in time too magnetic
To win or lose
Yet lose he did
Lost at everything
Patterns to be avoided
Mangled over the knee
Supported at that exact stretch
It died
Graves in such numbers
Friends of the epoch all
What was to live for
But the fall?
Mighty and swift
Thunder from above
Symbolizing trees
Shadows
Roses
Ideals
Wonder
Befuddlement
The shame of nearly hurting her
More than could be repaired
He yearns to be in a black room
Alone but to himself
Smashed with hammer
Gone from even there now
Pleasingly the mass is gone
Separate from himself
In a pool of replication
Then strapped in a chair
To fall and fall
And fall and fall
And live and die in two seconds of the common man.
