Insidious Poem by Veronika Scarlet

We said the word we prayed never to pronounce
A sound so insidious that its memory continues
To keep us shivering at night.
A venom so hazardous that no substance ever made
Could serve as an antidote for the fatal end.

Yet if such end were to come in a matter of seconds
The trouble of acceptance wouldn’t be greater than our Earth.
The acute pain would be worthwhile, for serenity
Would be subsequent to the fall of both of our expectations.

Instead, we wait for the day we’ve been consumed
By the poison in our dreams.
We crawl around leftover fires and linger through the waters
That race through us at the end of each week.
A diminutive dose of relief that leaves us wearied nonetheless.

We spoke of the inhibited and inevitable truth
Powerful enough to transform a grain of doubt
Into a desert of agony in which we walk barefooted.
And we question if we still yearn the freedom
The forbidden word promised to concede.