Poem: Frequency War

In the static hum between two hearts,
a war begins—no guns, just parts
of broken speech and signals crossed,
in wavelengths lost, in meaning tossed.

She speaks in chords of minor pain,
he answers back in cold refrain.
No harmony, no common beat—
just clashing tones and white-noise heat.

They tune their voices, shift their pitch,
but every word becomes a glitch.
What once was song is now a storm
of frequencies that won’t conform.

Each thought transmitted, half-received,
distorted, twisted, misconceived.
They scream in silence, loud and raw—
a symphony turned into war.

The air is full of what they meant,
but never said, or overspent.
The signal’s strong, the meaning weak,
they broadcast rage but never speak.

Static grows like weeds in spring,
choking out the song they’d sing.
And in the end, just silence stays—
two souls tuned out in separate ways.

But even wars can cease, can bend,
if someone dares to try, to mend.
Not all is lost in tangled wire—
some songs are built from broken fire.

So let them tune, and tune again,
through pain, through pause, through loss, through when.
Perhaps one day their hearts restore
a truce beneath the frequency war.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie