Violence was my foundation,
At first it held its ground,
It was slick and dark and solid rock,
And I glided easily upon it, around
And around.

My weight was small and my mind was narrow,
Hardly any mass at all,
So when I looked about
And saw that like the others it did not fall,
It seemed the same as the others’ –
The other foundations that did not start with a squall.

Violence was my foundation,
And though at first it held its ground,
I came across a sort of realization,
That it was not so safe, not so sound
As I once believed.

When I laid the floorboards
Things were typically fine,
Though the foundation started to flake
It was far too small, thought I, to be any sort of sign.
And the walls I soon built
Out of peace and out of pine.

And as others trod upon my house,
Their footfalls echoing in the barren rooms,
It began to crack and to wear so very quickly
That the floor broke and splintered all so very soon.
By then my weight was heavy and my mind was massive,
And it befell upon me far too late of what had always loomed.

Violence was my foundation,
And though I now knew it weak,
I had not time for castigations
I wasn’t one fought off so quickly
I had not an ounce of meek.

So in determination I stood,
And filled the rooms within
With furniture, decorations, and tabeltries.
My foundation withered and frayed with small grins,
But still I readied my roof of the heaviest stone,
To complete my home and finally win.

You see, I was a stubborn child,
I was a willful and bastardized soul,
And no matter what I had been delt,
I was certain, I was spiteful and eager to fulfill my only role,
And in haste I did lay down the last of the weight in my house,
And certain I was that the Violence would hold.

After all, Violence was my foundation,
And there was no changing that,
From it I drew every sort of indignation
And upon my righteousness I went and sat.

And from there I did watch
With ringing ears and a terrible dread,
As it all crumbled down on me
And a sharp blade of pain came in pridefulness’ stead.
My lungs breathed in the dust and and the gases,
And when it finally stopped, I was certain I was dead.

But then a cough escaped my lungs,
And slowly I rose from the rubble.
About was destruction, what I’d done
And never in life had I ever felt so humble,
As when I saw my house, my mind
Reverted to ruins where drifters would stalk and stumble.

Violence was my foundation,
And I never batted an eye, never made a sound
Though my mind did always protest using it for creation,
I always, always stood my ground.

And now I paid the price
And now I learnt my share,
Now that I have no foundation
No home and no refuge to spare,
And here as I look for materials
To rebuild, this is a scar I will always wear.

Violence was my foundation,
And at first it stood its ground -
Until it all came tumbling down.

But now I’m free from burden,
Now I can rebuild without a weight in my mind,
Now I’ll find a new foundation
And from it beauty will arise.