Chaos bends time,
distorts its aspirations
disfigures its moments,
throws it off course
from true north
or wherever it is
that morality points to,
and straight to a void.
It will suck the life
out of a daily, normal life;
this ur-force,
that makes us the deer
in its headlights, and
we are ever stunned
by its sudden appearance,
its morbid upheavals.
Yet we are the strangers
in its land, the aberration
within its norm,
the stubborn trees
facing its avalanche.
We damn it,
we dam its potential,
ever hopeful we have leashed it,
but, unseen, it can even ooze out
of a madman's mind.
And after it ebbs,
we are left with
gleaning meaning
from the cadavers
left in its wake.
