There is an ominous death tone <br />Ringing louder than a telephone <br />Set on maximum volume <br />For the near deaf <br />Or those still listening <br />From shallow graves. <br />Ear-piercing shrieks <br />Emanate from <br />Afternoon freaks <br />Gathering beneath rain clouds <br />To write murderous poetry, <br />Entangled in new vines <br />In the jungle of disturbed minds. <br /> <br />I heard mutilated words <br />Spoken in schizophrenic confusion <br />While anger flared skyward, <br />Incandescent heat consuming <br />Sacred love and harmony; <br />The last tattered membranes <br />Of crippled reason <br />Were disintegrating <br />Like dried autumn leaves <br />Or an abandoned lover’s needs. <br /> <br />Books were opening <br />And fluttering around <br />Like agitated birds, <br />While trapped ghosts, <br />Suspended in useless time, <br />Were frantically <br />Searching for holes <br />In the universe <br />Ever evolving into violence.<br /><br />Uriah Hamilton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-universe-ever-evolving-into-violence/
