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Night Falls Upon Her
by Michael Xenakis

Breed it!
Breathe it!
We give life; we take it away.
Yet all energy breeds anew,
Even as a harbinger of death.
Sow thine own seeds.
Sowing pain, toture, hate, rage,
It will return home.


I know that even I feel it inside.
Feel the hate, the rage;
Assuming the pain and fear,
The energy which cannot be contained.
The power which is ripped from our hearts,
Our souls; shredded as our very bodies are
Shredded by the ugliness we have bred
In our cities, in our minds.


Lying awake in bed, trying to cleanse my mind.
Hear the screams, the pummelling of a body...
The barking of a dog.
Does he have a choice.
Does he fear for his life as much as his victim
Fears her own?
If he sees this poor creature as no threat,
Is his life then threatened by his, so called, Guardians.


Guarding their own fears and doubts.
Setting them safely behind the walls of
Pretension, of toughness, of callousness and hate.
I am not a killer, I am not an abuser.
Yet, as I lie awake, if I allow myself the luxury of fantasy,
If I slip into the dreams of dominance, of abuse,
If I see myself lashing out on her behalf,
How much closer do I come to that which I despise?


It all begins in our minds... our minds,
Birthed from those of their parents,
Of their guardians and teachers,
Friends, families and loved ones.
And so its traced across all generations,
The passing of our morals, our values,
Or our lack thereof.


That seed planted so long ago;
The lust of an individual, of a family,
A clan, a village, a nation.
The sheer lack of humanity entraps the trapper.
Their is no victory in domination,
Only emptiness... loneliness.
Fear breeds power,
But the energy still requires guidance.