manchester

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there is a perpetual silence
that ring will out
in the final ignition
of the fires of hell.
and oh,
my human heart longs
to make you
take assurance
that your homemade, homespun cowardice
and dining-table death machine
will not create the heat
that you desire;
that fire belongs to the night
and yours will now be infinite.
my hating, human heart
wants to hope
that the service given you
by the last of your life
would be worth the tears;
it aches to hope
that a godless expanse
would be all that would welcome
the last fragments of your soul.
but who am i,
who am i to condemn
when the mind of the devoted
runs so wild and afraid?
can my belief and my doctrine
so outweigh the sacrifice and solitude
of the sacred pages –
i am helpless to comfort,
helpless to confront.
screaming down an empty corridor
will no more heal the hurt
than a plaster on a broken mind;
throwing knives
at oblivion
will only burn your limbs.
all i have is leftover strength,
refrigerated scraps that nobody fancied.
i’m clinging to the cross.

 

[p.s. sorry i’ve been gone – exams got in the way. i’m back with a few thoughts about manchester…what i can muster.]

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15 thoughts on “manchester

  1. “that your homemade, homespun cowardice
    and dining-table death machine
    will not create the heat
    that you desire;”

    Wow. This is so spot-on. Striking all the way trough. You’re a genius with words dear.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. that you can muster a response so powerful is a great honor to those we now mourn. and so the violence continues around the world. maybe dante will open up a special floor in hell.

    Like

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