Seek

Imagery alone is not palette enough to describe the feeling.

But without paint to brush or chalk to smudge, it’s what we seek.

Clouds roll in like slickened driving wheels on freshly greased tracks

Gaining momentum, distended bellies threatening birth of something bleak.

A cluster of voices clamber and cackle for attention

Like crowds gathering before gallows, awaiting death,

Jostling and judging and goading into actions

That rip flesh apart, leave lungs gasping for breath.

Silences screams...