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Poem

My will to leave, my bliss,
For I searched for me.
I have seen me,
When no mirrors comfort it.
That voice, that plays with soul.
A place so cold,
But I hold to hope.

I’m tired of feeling so stiff,
My mind wanders like a thief who seeks.
Am I but a man lost indeed?
My childhood plagues my grief.
Wars within my thoughts,
My mind at a dance for its bride.
She lays her ways on me,
The choice I chose for me—
Mine or something far from me?

Who am I,
But a word from Thee?
Truth be told,
I know not me.
For my mind at war with Thee,
To find me in places so hollow like me.
Will I oppose the dance she offered me?

Voices so seductive,
But words too pale for me.
I have searched for me,
But the whole too dark to see.
If I could follow Thee,
But faith wouldn’t rescue me.
For was I made for Thee,
To see me as He/She pleases?

The choice I make,
Because fear lives within.
I prose a dinner with Thee,
Let me search for me.
For my being so crooked to see,
A place for peace to live.
For my road so narrow but real,
I can see me,
But crooked as Thee.

By P.Fualem

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