Faith
My chest has split, it is agape
my will pours out in a constant stream,
which bends my spine,
drags my head to the ground.
I am devoid of many an emotion,
except the ones forced into me
which weld me and smother me,
and smear their forlorn sorrow upon my face.
I can touch them, the feelings,
they rocket out of me onto paper,
and I burn in their trails,
while their infernos singe and dry my eyes.
I am taught, yet I still listen out,
I am one with the wind
I am in its eye, but I would hear you,
as my world whirls and smashes around me.
In the thunderous glory of my stormy tempest I cringe,
I am fetal and wasted,
my wrists bend and my gut sags,
I have given away my power, and my pen is running dry.
But I have learned that some
can not contain this gift,
and it smothers and crushes,
and it is as wasted as its conjurer when the spell snaps.
Life is not just nor written,
Karma is a tool of lies,
for a good man to fall
the darkness is in front.
they say the opposite of love is hate,
but this is not true,
the opposite of love is loss,
and I have lost to you.
But while air rushes into my lungs,
and I still wake every day,
I will empty you from my eyes each morning,
as I hopelessly wait for a change in tide.
I will fight the storm inside of me,
and I will brave the dreadful weather,
as you are still taking away my breath,
and you invade every dream.
Please come back,
this is so wrong,
I am nothing any more,
I love you.
Copyright © Jon K | Year Posted 2017
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