Ed Ellsworth

MY WAR

Once again – bloody red – trickles through
Violent tremors did shake the floor
Too late – there is little left to do
Demons are crashing through the door

Midst the sobbing, fitful fear
This soul blisters with incineration
Crashing volleys – forever clear
Memories, incoherent of deliberation

Old battles, echoes through the years
Far removed from taking a side
A war that is waged between the ears
Summoning a melancholic suicide

There’ll be no dwindling – recollection
Padlock thy wit, so bitter sweet
Dead are the remains – for dissection
A mind hoaxed, in full retreat