Poem: Wam bam - hit like a revolver's load

{When I travel, I write - and sometimes poems}

Struck in the temple - dual attack - driving through to the depths of the skull emitting a shudder to violate the whole body! Rammed into darkness reverberating the intensity, drowned in sorrow's pain!

Anguish pronounced its mark through a furrowed brow - frozen, contained, as though trapped. Eyes darting trying to escape the power! No longer a simple thought, it's now an overpowering conundrum questioning every reason, answer and feeling. What is? What is? What is?

This constant battle between what's right and what feels right. Crusading daily through mind's War field to cleanse it of life's complexities. Weapons discarded, ammunition rifled, strength abandoned, fighters fleeing.

The battle seems over but the war yet not lost nor won. Imprisoned by what is, what may be and what you really want it to be.

The revolver burning, it's load fired - entrenched in a battle of its own!