Division Of Pain Poem by Herman Hoyte

What do you do when all order has gone away?
When mental riot is here to stay?
Wallowing in scuttling coals, drowning in thorny hay,
What do you do? What can you say?
Your minds a prisoner, your heart's enslaved.
Mood unrecognizable, in the swirling fray.
What can you change? How can you pay?
For, it seems even your soul, has undergone change.

The heat it rises, the pulsing grows,
the pressure builds, the venom flows,
wall stretches, pillar bows,
Thoughts are screeching, serenity's foes,
Where can you turn? Who really knows?

Seek assistance, seek distraction,
find a process, replacement action,
let it come fill in the space,
extinguish the flame, restore his face,

While scanning the options, highs and lows,
the single idea, must impose,
but snap away, scatter the crows
never revert, to that golden rose.

I know I know it would heal it all.
But stay away, pick any, but that resolve.
Yet with equal strength of the fiery shawl,
comes the golden light, from the china doll.

Too precious, too perfect, too loved, too rare,
to bother, infect, with this contagious death snare.
Let not this mind spoil or mare.
Keep it hidden, stay closed, do not share.

Yes, its the one thing your breath yearns to do,
stop, back off, don't ruin her with you,

One word, one phrase, a short converse.
All'd get clearer, the rose quenching the thirst,
The blood red rose, dripping in light, trades better for worse.
And giving her peace, takes up your stress,
starts to wilt, erasing her verse.

So, spare her, save her, this rare rose.
So, stay here, face fear, hold on to your woes.

Someday will be time,
to divide pain, ban “mine”