Knives and Wives

Call me a nomad, a mendicant, or even an aimlessly meandering soul

Brand me a wandering ascetic bereft of all concepts of either fair or foul;

The world for me is now an inexplicable sphere of chaotic welter

Where thoughts, deeds and words make for a messy grid running Helter-Skelter.

 

Impervious to bliss and ignorant of pain

I am an empty hollow within which all emotions lay slain;

Thus when accosted by armed assailants seeking to induce dread

I calmly said “Let him strike me who he thinks can kill something that is already dead”

 

Helter-Skelter they ran with their guns and knives

Some tale that to narrate to their wives!

Courtesy of Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt