Undercover Operation
He chafes the prayer beads against his wrist
Has died lesser deaths of exasperated rage
It’s not forgiveness he seeks but purifying anger
To feel the rawness of emotion he focusses
On undefeatable loss and zealous slaughter
Of cross fires approaching target practice
A peaceful man and oft discerned by thoughts
In overthinking modes of analytical destruction
The old warrior aims to unleash condensing fury
‘I want to feel the hurt’ and so he turns inside
For considerate vivisection and careful attribution
Selects a modus operandi to excise the pain
Rips off the bandages and washes ointment from
Years of contained and preordained resilience
And resolves that ceasefires of mind must stop
Turns off the light to engage with boiling darkness
Plugs his ears and braves an onslaught of deaf voices
As cacophony and synaesthesia fuel the silent bellow
Once iron will is hot and set on scalding blisters he confronts
Injustices and ravenous beasts of incinerating prey head on
At last they fall on his scalpel once boiling point is reached
To remind himself of the successful operation he chooses not
To stitch the gaping injury because he needs encouragement
Instead he cauterizes his soul and seals a union with himself
16th December 2019
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2019
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