The Violence of Complacency (a poem)

All around me walls are crumbling, crashing down;
Imaginations crush a hated foe-
Their idle, smiling masks are cackling like a clown;
Inside a wicked one who's naively wishing woe.

The victim loves with peace of heart and mind;
An innocent so young-no harm could crash
Or should befall this non-corrupted mind:
A brutal bed prepared beneath the trash.

The ghosts of death spurred to their fatal task,
Attack the child alone, soon screaming fear
And terror to the hearts of those with masks;
But wisps then haul the noise unheard through deadened ears:

These clowning ones love pleasure more than life,
And laugh away the ones who suffer strife.

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