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| Scott Thomas Outlar |
A Rage Most Sublime
She dances with Shiva –a controlled frenzy
taken to the furthest edge
of a precarious precipice,
laughing with thunder,
alive with electric chaos
pulsing through each
burning tendril, tantalizing,
reaching out to touch
the distance we cannot fathom…
She screams with a nuclear reaction –
a crazed momentum
careening past the urge to cease,
giving way to fervent temptations,
stretching out to taste the Beast,
seized by silent surrender,
and Revelation is
a sacrifice to the gods of war
who want more, more, more,
demanding blood at the altar…
She is the dripping chalice –
a chosen huntress
roaring with the scales of judgment,
passing righteous verdicts
rendered nightly from the moon
as waves crash, cancelling
the holy tide; the truth survives
in shards, splintered, sent off
through refracted realms of darkness
with promises of resurrection come the dawn…
No Cheek Left to Turn
It is a moral stanceto never initiate force
But it would be suicidal
to not fight back in self defense
