reversed evil

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a thousand silences are pounding on my ear drums
after the cloudburst of words
that was shattered against the sidewalk
and washed away
the anger, the fear, the despise
all the poison in life
and the grip of death.

now you can’t even hear the breaths
and the pools of water reflect
the reversed truth
the answer that remains
a whisper to deaf ears:

“it is not the calm after the storm, my friend,
it is the calm before the next.”

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a/n: it seems that all i’m capable of doing nowadays is writing incoherent poetry. should i laugh or cry? either way, do tell me what you think of this.