Animus

A hiding place, a warm and darkened room, A lit doorway, bright against the dark, Cold against the warmth, a frame for odd Assorted stranger-forms whose faces loom As quarrels over (what?) convulse and rend them, Leering laughter giving in to vicious Sneers, bared fangs, silent snarls Of wretched, clutching, atavistic mayhem, A terror once removed. Inside that hole Distant from the proximal horrid window Where twisted evil shadow-puppets fight Peculiar faint amusement seems to roll Like waves around the cave, detached and born Of safety via distance, of certainty That out would never be in, that warmth was safe, That war above, so far away, forlorn, Could be watched as from a languid seat Far recessed in a darkened empty theater, Nestled snugly, listening to the voice Which comments on the raging battle heat. From somewhere up, behind, not left nor right, But from the center, voice and fight both Directly sensed, as if they each occurred In a vacuum, touch and smell, sound and sight Being interchangeable and void. The fighters jab and poke, madly gouge, And neither gains advantage, being justly Matched, as both are faceless, the man At left pitted fair against the shrewish Plot of his opponent, evil woman. Both in turn appeal for judgment, turning Away from fighting to glare and wave and hiss Silently for a verdict on the ghastly driven Feud which now has stopped, as it began, Abruptly, and receiving none, for in The silence no answer can be given (Besides which, being taken by surprise And overcome by sudden fear, aware Of change in circumstance) the watcher is mute, The murderous woman lunges at his very eyes In deadly assault, bent on maiming, killing, Groping fiercely at his open throat For no apparent reason; and the comfort Of the soothing voice utterly halts. Words without sound fly like spears between them Accusatory fingers gesture madly And spittle from their half-crazed livid mouths Wings through air in visual acid anthem To this grisly deadly tandem fight That seems the worse being set in relief By the rectangular hole that serves as both Window and door, divider of dark and light, No protection, as threshold battle threatens Him within, as blind hatred rages In deft slashes of lengthy fingernails While foe from foe extracts macabre debt.