Our series featuring the poems and verses from our community at our recent Cypher Church event continues. This feature set contains explicit language.

The Truth about Tragedy

— by Bryan F–

There are are no words for the comfort you’re seeking
I don’t have magical sentences that give the meaningless

My Vocabulary isn’t necessary or soothing to hear when
media mobs both prey daily and feed fear into your ear
I can’t say anything to justify pain and loss, like I’m some
divine saviour lyricist to help you make order out of

How weird is it that now is the time when I should be
speechless, shut the fucking fuck up for once and just let
myself feel this…flashback…to the last time and the last
time and the last time that this happened…Eventually
you’re just recapping the memory of a feeling of a
memory of a feeling…and then the things you use to
feel…go numb.

So I have no master plan laid out, no trick plays to play
out, so what? What could you or me or anyone possibly
have to say worth saying anything about?!
This world is fucked man…this world is fucked.

So Which is more just?…to trust that this was not just a
realm of forsaken, deliberately mikstakened land…or a
reality where he…he just simply forgot about us….
I look above and pray for comforting signs or consoling
words….kneeling softly, eyes closed, perched atop a
freshly inherited, slowly poisoned earth.

With poisoned people poisoned with evil that we have
used to exploit our land, our oceans, our skies, and even

And hell, we expect and want everything…until there is
nothing…for us left to sell.

Like locusts we breed as Mother Gaia wheezes and
hacks…we are too stupid and selfish to even realize that
we…we are not being punished….we ARE the
punishment…we ARE the plague.

Good people are hurt. Good people are tortured. Good
people are killed. People use hate to hurt others. And
when those hurt people are loved, it’s their love that ends
up being used to hurt people too.

Why are we so…so good…at being cruel to one another?
Enforcing rules upon one another? Saying these people
or that can’t ever just be one with one another?
Who is this, that, or the… ‘other’?

Who, where, when, what, and how is this ‘other’?
The ‘other’…is us. No one is alone in feeling alone. We all
don’t belong….what happens when we stop needing to
belong? We start needing to be.  Needing to be
something…anything…that just needs to be.

In a world of meaninglessness, there can be those who
have the courage to give themselves the gift of meaning
and inspire others to do the same…so let’s use their

Carly laid atop her daughters and promised them they’d
be alright.

Sonny told his wife the exact same thing, ‘cept his words
turned out to be a lie.

Todd didn’t hesitate to go back out, as fire rained from up

Tom and James who once were strangers, embraced as
brothers, survivors….and so they lived to share a hug.
Heroes are made from something different. Something
resilient in against what it’s made to suffer. Our darkest
times…bring the brightest lights…and on certain nights, to
be a hero means to choose something else…to be made
from something or  ‘other’.

Being an ‘other’ lies in choosing choice, seeing the paths
of what is written or to be written still…to forgive from
apologies that never re-fill your heart and eyes from

The forest that is darker and wilder than history has ever
seen. There are more than two wolves, one myth, one
legend…And one reality.

The howl of the wolf that you heed, is the wolf that you

So which wolf do you see? Which wolf do you choose to

My universe isn’t cruel.
My universe isn’t kind.
My universe is indifferent.
And what that all means is up to me.