The Lamentation of a Wounded Soul
Each night, bitter tears flood my cheeks,
none of my former lovers are there
to offer comfort.
My friends have betrayed me
despising me as they turn deadly enemies.
I'm a slave to my own nature
humbled with no rest from sorrow
humiliated like a deer
which cannot find pasture
and hunted down till my strength is gone.
I can't even remember the good Life
that was once there
because my existence has become a joke.
A beauty, young and untouched
now trampled like grapes in a wine pot.
Tears of suffering; shouts of mourning
becoming my closest triplet sisters.
I reach out my hand
but no one offers comfort
instead I'm being treated like a filthy rag.
My eyes red from crying,
my stomach is on knots
and I feel sick all over
as I wait for the healing of my wounds;
gaping as wide as the oceans
Deep in my heart, I cry out
now letting my tears
overflow my walls day and night.
my skin and flesh waste away
and my Bones broken.
The constant insults and hard knocks
chain me down
to eat gravel and be rubbed in dirt.
My Life has turned sour;
terrified, trapped, caught and crushed
as tears flood my eyes and they won't stop.
I was once worth
much more than fine stones from Australia
yet now counted worthless
like dishes of clay.
I stagger around naked and wounded
exposed to the Red vultures of the Jungle
and to the babarian brutal desert tribes.
My skin scourched from fever and hunger
and finally, the desert trap,
immobilizing me,
makes them swoop down
faster than the Eagles from the sky
to feast in the delicious meal of my ruin.
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2013
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