Alienating the past

My conscience holds me to the ground

Threatening to step on my ‘thought pipe’,

Breaking apart I manage to look around;

Found a thug who spilt blood

And another who cut down trees.

I had departed, but acceptance was hard;

My pen with a broken nib,

The fire break I had cut

Across my imaginative wildfire,

Whole of my beautiful perception

That was sodden and covered in snow.

A scream escaped from the alienation,

I couldn't remember the last time I screamed,

It reverberates around me

The world and its naivety cover its face

And I breathe again,

Wait! There; life is circling back.