Were it not for peace, my inner state,
words would fly like daggers,
and I, each one would regret,
as enemies stay closer within conflict,
and thought alone can tether us to foe.
Keep thee away from me, you,
proven sharp and ruthless,
your caniving dark affronts test life to limits,
and afford no relent, for
no light in your mind can be seen.
I step back from you, wanting no part,
for there is no nutrient in your poison,
and forget I wish, for all you’ve done,
yet you still pursue
with forked tongue, in malice,
Like tree roots your darkness spreads,
with all who follow such as your thread,
and without question these disciples
vent their own strife through judgement,
and maintain the weight of your imbalance.
I am not striken by your rage, nor your cursed words,
for I am whole and bare no weight
from your judgement, as
I am clean, without guilt or remorse,
for all you say I’ve done.
Tis you who will fall, as truth tests us all,
and your unhappiness will bury you,
deep within the grave you dug so meticulously,
and sad as it is, I am sorry for your illness,
yet you the master of your life and actions, chose it.
Tony DeLorger © 2017