Confusion melds the disparate into one

Confusion melds the disparate into  one
We forget distinctions and combine unlike.
Paranoia  circles   like a  shrieking bomb

We’re acting in a film and come undone
The villain and the victim pass our sight
Confusion melds the disparate into  one

The victory of deep  secrets comes undone
At most, we hope to see  the ghost alight
Paranoia  panics   thus; oh,  shrieking bomb

The light of ages is not made for fun
Some are merely nibbled, some take bites
Confusion melds the disparate into  one

At last, there is the silence of the tomb
After death, we  choose the sacred rites
Paranoia   circles  in the  shrinking room

What can happen, what is given rights
What we see and what is our of sight
Confusion melds the disparate into  one
Paranoia  sparkles  like a speaking bomb

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About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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