I hear noises sounds punching against my ear

I hear noises pressing against my ear canal all the way through my brain

I dont want to hear noises.  Sound of a drum beating still. A Thousand hands

pressed up against my ears in shots. I hear in rage, in sorrow, in pain. 

I hear in rythm shots airing a bang,  bring down the body, the creation.  Nobody

except a body in a body that sits in waiting to take away, the undoing in a brush.

Away, its in the beating still drum,  playing in a thousand yards. No run

No run of a beating still drum, drum, drum.  Still, its oohing, aching, its trimming. 

Staying put to a raised hand a thousand hands raise to a sport.

All trimming the last rose to a beaten drum.