Fictional Dependency - Part I: Neurological Warfare

Hi there,

I'm going to dive straight into my December upload because I doubt I'll get the same time to get around to it after today. There's just so much to do.

College is busy, the workload is intoxicating, people are unbearable and sleep is the most difficult thing to get around to these days. It got me thinking about mental health, and what effect a busy, exhausting lifestyle might have on an individual.

I also considered the recent terrorism events that have been happening in midland Europe in the past few weeks, and I wanted to write something relevant.

Of course, there is a hint of something else in there, an empowerment. Control, almost.

What's interesting about the recent terrorism events, is that there are many sides to the fighting. And it's becoming more and more difficult to understand who is on whose side. Though, saying that, there are a minority that are not on any side, because the fighting is pointless.. Violence is not the answer!

And that minority are composed of a variety of people. There are the innocent victims, who have no intention of turning to violence, and who genuinely yearn peace.. and there are criminals, people who have turned to crime in the past, and have learned it's doesn't solve anything.

And it is those people, who possess the ability to see the bigger picture. It is those who we don't hear. And mainly because we don't want to hear the truth. Violence won't solve anything, and peace will never come until the day one of those people, from the minority, get the power to speak.

They would cure us of our treachery. They would silence us all.

I just want to remind the reader that my poetry is personal, but I'm not directly describing myself in my poems.

I hope ye like it..

Don't just pray for Paris, pray for the world. ☮

Fictional Dependency - Part I: Neurological Warfare

Oh, the sensitivity!
Bombs, guns, war... Even the mention of the likes has the world around her at unease.
How long has it been since youths began using these terms
Without a hint of caution?
Why should it all be taken so seriously now?

She awakens each morning with the same melancholy.
Nothing changes, nothing's new,
She accepts life as it is.
There's a chance we'll be hit tomorrow.
There is a war going on, after all.
But, though she arises in a world left unharmed,
She is in tension still.

She moves on swiftly through another gloomy day.
The sky takes many colours,
The air holds many voices.
Yet, still, she is oblivious.
Her silence: impenetrable.
No joke could arouse laughter.
No insult could provoke anger.
To remain silent is her answer.

But why? No one asks.
Her beauty alone could break hearts.
Her words could mend souls.
Her touch could heal wounds.
Her voice could silence the world.

But no one has asked.
No one has wondered.
Everyone believes she is independent,
She's happy in her isolation,
She is content to continue the life she is living.

But inside she is far from happy.
Her isolation, she believes, is best for everyone.
She depends on everyone to help her,
But knows they cannot help.
No one would understand.
For she has all the answers,
Her words would mend souls.
Her voice would silence the world.

Though the sky takes many colours,
And the air holds many voices,
All she sees are the monsters in her mind.
And all she hears are their murmurs crawling into her reality.
She can see who the real terrorists are.

The truth is; no soldiers, no artillery and no attack can compare
To the threat the monsters bring her.
This is real war.

And that's why she doesn't speak.
She knows no one would understand,
For this she is glad.
But.. No one would want to hear what she has to say.
No one would like her words.
Her voice would silence the world.

25th November 2015