Login
|
Join PoetrySoup
Home
Submit Poems
Login
Sign Up
Member Home
My Poems
My Quotes
My Profile & Settings
My Inboxes
My Outboxes
Soup Mail
Contest Results/Status
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Quotes
Short Stories
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Resources
Syllable Counter
Anthology
Grammar Check
Greeting Card Maker
Classifieds
Member Area
Member Home
My Profile and Settings
My Poems
My Quotes
My Short Stories
My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder
Soup Social
Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us
Member Poems
Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Random
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread
Member Poets
Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest
Famous Poems
Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100
Famous Poets
Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War
Poetry Resources
Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Email Poem
Your IP Address: 18.223.119.17
Your Email Address:
Required
Email Address Not Valid.
To Email Address:
Email Address Not Valid.
Required
Subject
Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
I asked the shards, whose were on the walls of this narrow corridor. What is this self? What are this one to do with this life? Pass through here and we shall write on your husk the answer. And so this one did, went forth. Each slice revealed another, once dormant, memoir. There, at dawn all had to leave their shelter to do what they did not like, for beings they could not care less about. Every day, from dawn to dusk inside the metal worm accompanied from the faceless shadows. Turning around, that pain, he was quite familiar with. This one does not fathom the meaning, told to the shards, all you did was to open this flesh and gifted this one with scars. No, we wrote on thy husk the emptiness of the meaningless that is to keep going. Thee went trough us, though them, without desire, got scars, got pain, suffered, struggled. And yet, you need a reason, is not the pain and scars a lesson enough? At the end, you are more empty than before. Why is that? I do not know. Why? Forwhy there's no meaning, no higher purpose, no nothing, life itself is a disease, and you know, the other husks as well, how to get rid of it. Keep struggling, if so you wish. But take heed of us, there are nothing worth beyond. At this point, this one decided to stop looking, he felt empty. You told me to look, they told me to look, and less than that was not done. Yet nothing was found, but what this one already knew, but denied. To breath brings nothing but painfulness episodes to that what you told me to be worth the conflict. I often get lost within myself. But she help me find my way out. Cold. Sharp. True to its nature. One. Two. Three, still cannot feel and you cannot understand, but I am back. She brought me here. As it goes dripping down, small portions of me, making small pools of crimson mirros The very same spot where I can spy all the faces that once hated, where I can hear the laughter, the mockery, once more and feel the eyes judging and the fingers condemning. I ask the table next to me: What am I to do with what I've found? Fill the void in thysellf, she told me. I knew what she meant. I have to use the needle, the white dust and the stones. To fly higher than this realm, fly away from myself. Perchance, to find the end. And after it, may find a purpose...
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required