That's Not Safe
Promises not kept are like brutal blows,
ruthless ripping words are the harsh slashes.
They strike unaware where latent hope grows,
cleave through the ruptured heart as it crashes.
The mind becomes angry fire of the wild,
uncontrolled, it simmers the blood of pride,
flares to burn the gentle patience defiled.
Not dowsed, it singes sound senses defied.
The smoke billows up opaque and intense,
conscience trips losing its stability.
Vile breath is charged with ashes of hate dense,
face of restraint they destroy instantly.
Anger then turns to perilous terrain.
That’s not safe, so get away from it sane.
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2025
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