Swamp
Swamped in feelings,
Thinking the true destiny is gone.
Fight through the feelings, rend and tear.
The swamp threatens to take me under.
The dark waters that hold so many secrets,
Rise to make me a forgotten whisper.
Defeated, drawn in to the waters full of despair and loathing.
The water feels cool, thick and dark, masking the pain.
I embrace it, feel it course through my mind, taking over.
The swamp fills me with what I want, self loathing.
To try and feel sorry for the waters would be wrong, why have I been wronged.
The waters comfort me in the coolness of their touch.
The coolness, that I no longer want,
Flames, fire, heat of lust and a way of hope.
I break the surface, no longer in the cold.
I see the hope, I see the pain.
Wash it away.
Along with the silt of despair.
I am above this, the swamp reaches for me.
I vaporize its reach with the flames of self worth.
The droplets hit my fiery skin; sizzle as a I burn with disdain.
This will no longer bring grief.
I am reborn.
Copyright © Adam Ballard | Year Posted 2011
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