Chaotic Illusions Of Laughter

 Justice is an illusion

Fairness a dead hope.

Where the final sanity of a troubled mind

Is found swinging at the end of a rope.

For mountains of sore troubles

Rise forth in mutinous anger.

Whilst seas of bitter remorse

Billow silent unto their danger.

Peace, oh peace is but now a dying whisper

Forlorn and despised,

Torn to flesh and circumcised.

Another page, another less noble night

Another life forgotten

as candles of absolution, lose their light.

For it is unto the silence of this final chapter

That the madness of this day

Becomes illusions chaotic laughter.

J. Allen Wilson © 2005