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The Strength Of Pain

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Below is the poem entitled The Strength Of Pain which was written by poet John Winston O.O.. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Strength Of Pain

As far as the eyes can stretch
Sand shines and glitters white to torment the eyes
In the ocean of land barren without life
A determined line of black souls 
Forges ahead their efforts
A sole upon sole they entrust their all
In an optimistic advent to redemption

The skies above so devoid of hope
Not even a single cloud shows
Instead vultures fly high yet nearby 
...rooting for a falling soul that they may devour
Each frail soul in the trail tries its best to keep awake and abreast 
Lest it falls prey to the creatures seeking a meal for the day
How in their souls they wish to curse the heavens above
But instead, tradition ensures they pray for miracles of mercy

When the sun reaches its heights and unleashes a wrath only of its kind
Impromptu pit stops must be made on the sand that bakes hot,
...with garments used to form light tents overhead
	...providing temporary reprieve from the scotching pain
As the souls silently sit
One may think they rest
But an investigation into their introspections
...reveals fears and worries that can torture to death

A mother thinking of the son’s burdening weight
...wishing and plotting to abandon him by the wayside
	....so she may forge just a few of kilometres ahead
A father worrying of his wife’s and daughter’s safety
...if and when they cross the rebels way

The bitter souls wish to blame it all on heaven
It’s all because the Divine Fraternity failed to provide rain
Or is it because they refused to heed the lessons of science and history
...albeit the potentials of modernity

All in all, whichever dimension perceived from
The hunger has sunk deep its claws
...and in its control it has brought along many other foes
The grass is greener beyond the border... they heard it told
So now, come what may, there they must go to save their souls
For the herds of animals are long gone and all wealth is forever lost

Perhaps they shall all live to see a better day 
Perhaps they shall all be blown dead
...by an explosive from overhead
But in each precise moment of the day 
...that they can fill air in their lungs 
...and perceive hope in their heads
Their hearts must furnish the will to inspire their strengths
...to gain that extra mile ahead
Hopefully, the future might have a lesson that they shall never relent
For in life, with a future that forever beckons
...it is never too late to be correct

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  1. Date: 11/16/2011 5:40:00 AM

    A warm welcome to PoetrySoup I offer to you John. I wish for you the best in your writing endeavors whatever they may be. May you find inspiration by reading some of the poetry written here by other poets. Read and comment on their's and they will return in kind. May the sun shine on you that you might find great joy in your life. Love and blessing always, Carol

  1. Date: 11/14/2011 6:48:00 AM

    You are right, never too late to be correct, John

  1. Date: 11/13/2011 9:28:00 PM

    a very stong poem and point...Enjoyed stopping by tonight, have yourself a lovely night ;-) ,..LINDA

  1. Date: 11/13/2011 8:18:00 AM

    love that last line! :) Catie