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Poem

Every reason equates to both the truth or curtains. 
Within the visible light of mind, unveil the blurriness or shade it for certain. 
Emotions are as true as the hands that caress it. 
The speech that moulds it and the yearning to believe it. 
Yet this world seems as corrupt as the mind who sees it. 
The darkness that envelops the thought, was taught and trained. 
Unknowingly and guided by hands that only crave Power. 
Dig in deep in the dissolution of thoughts and bind it with the warmth of Heart's embrace. 
Shed the layers of forced ideas and institution and break free the shackles of this illusion. 
Or brace the smoke of despair that entrapped the lungs and leave life gasping for air. 
Just to survive or let die in hopes that this hardship and lies are forgotten with death. 
Released from the burden of life's grasp. 
The choke of life that threatens all in a single minute wraith. 
That will forever alter our destiny and our path. 

Do you know how I got these scars?

I was broken and battered. 
Not by swords wielding battles.
No armies that conquered.
Just mere words and pictures that keeps me in shackles.

Every moment, a distinct invention of a monster.
Invoked into my being by images of societal ruptures.
Creating me into something unholy, those taunters.
Like a carcass, advertise me as meat for vultures.

I felt I was branded with faults, discarded by burning.
I felt I was tainted with salt, distasteful and disconcerting,
I feel I am as they visioned me to be, obese, ugly and demeaning.
I felt I was. I feel I am. Believing thus revealing.

Unknown and invisible, I hexed this insecurity.
Unwise and inaudible, perplexed within me.
Unfair and implausible, indexed unworthy.
Until no end, this forbids me to be a part of society.

Do you know how I got these scars?

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