Vision of Unrest
A time has passed I do not regret my lost side of unrest and no progress. So full of anger, boiling and roiling, tearing and searing, seeking out that liberation. A fight, it didn't matter who, what, when or where, just give me that respite despite the spite. I kept plunging deeper dredging in demoralization stumbling into madness seeing only with my corrupted sight.
Pain, the festering fisticuffs a slugfest of survival, rendering, retching, wrestling and running. Forward fumbling, rumbling and tumbling, risking and revolting rushing from my deprivation, indubitably dragging it along.
Image by Mark Cummins via Flickr
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