The Futility of Persecution


As you approach me
both guns drawn
Bullets full of hate and bile
I stand here naked
hands beside me
Armed with just
my inner smile

As you seek
to breech the sanctum
Leaving carnage
and calamity
I sit here safe behind
the glass that shields
my newfound equinamity

I never built these walls
you built them
with your twisted
bitter hand
It was you not I
that sought to cross
the line within the sand

As your projectiles
tear my body
Leaving gaping wounds behind
I stand here smiling
in the sunshine that's
the fortress of
my mind...


©HaroldRizla