Dillema of My Being
Back to this dark, cold,
vacuumed
space,
With no air, life,
No sort of soothe to the
senses
You have given me.
My eyes,
Beg to see light,
But only darkness is in
view.
My ears yearn to hear
some sort
of,
Soothing word,
statement, song,
Anything that will tell
them,
That it would all be gone.
My nose, blocked,
By the stench of despair,
And would give anything,
Absolutely anything,
To have a breath of fresh
hopeful
air.
My tongue, tasting the
sourness
of pain,
Destruction stinging its
buds,
With hot chilly tastes,
Desperate for just a lick,
A single drop,
Of sweet happiness.
My hands, Oh my hands,
Ever clinging to the past,
The hurt, the tears,
Vague cruelty that life
offered,
To them as a gift,
Back when I was young,
naive
and ignorant.
My hands they embrace
the
wrong sinful desires,
Holding tight to them,
As you see these are the
only
friends, acquitances,
They ever knew and had.
They yearn to be free,
Or atleast have a better
feel,
Of the cotton softness of
joy,
peace, love.
My whole being,
Mind body soul,
Entangled in vines of sin,
Sin that no matter how
thorny,
Offered a place to lay my
head,
A kind of peace knowing
that no
judgement will be faced,
Promises that my soul
would
gladly bear consequences
for.
But questions, doubts,
uncertainities still remain.
Peaceful life, painful
death after,
unrest for the soul
forever,
Or hard life, no matter
how long,
then death after filled
with dance
and song,
Total bliss for the soul????
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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