Never going to drag me down
I live like a butterfly tangled in the gales of a tornado
I live by struggling to see what lies ahead,
By squinting my eyes to clear my vision
And by trying not to suffocate with the powerful winds!
I live, though, in solo, refusing consistently to hold on to arms
Being handed out to me as symbols of refuge
Promising to protect me against the tornado
As, though made of glass casings, living while holding on to them,
Shall fill me with the warmth and the protection that I seek!
Pray, why should I hold on to these arms
Symbolical they may be, of temporary refuge
But, they are also strong,
Having the capacity to crush me into a bloody mess
Within seconds of having me in their grip!
Arms, laden with the hues of sins,
Shall only corrupt my purity
And have me, swimming like them,
In seas filled with mundane filth!
Pray, arms do reach out to me, as if freshly sprouted
From the soils, creeping up to me, like magic beans' vines,
But I, adamant on keeping my aim bent on seeing the truth of life,
Refuse to let them drag me down
Why, I have been gifted with wings
Am I to use these to keep on flying, and fighting with the winds
As such is what my maker wishes me to do!
Escaping my fate by gripping on to treacherous arms
Would only cause me to have a conscience dripping with envy,
Enviously eyeing those basking in purity
Ardently yearning to have their notion of reality!
Why, never shall I let myself be dragged down
By all that which try to stop me from fluttering my weak wings
This world and its enjoyers are not worth it!
Copyright © Anoucheka Gangabissoon | Year Posted 2017
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