Who Am I
Who am I?
Seeking absolution, I wander
the alleyways of times gone by,
awash with wasted regrets, I
crawl into the yawning crevasse,
clutching at straws as merciless
time takes to the sky.
Drenched in the reeking stench
of wrongs I cannot undo,
I scurry blindly through the
maze,
seeking pain to convince myself
that today’s reality is true.
Torn to shreds, my tattered
mind bobs, weaves and
swerves,
my fingers clawing at the
jangled knots of my frayed
nerves.
When does the moulting of skin
cease,
crumpling dreams floating away
with each passing breeze.
Shattered hearts lie mortally
wounded, unable to mend,
washed-up and washed-out,
cast into a palace of
indifference,
no enemies to be found here,
swallowed up by pity, my
perennially faithfull friend.
Who am I,
this shuffling carcass of flesh
and bone,
enclosed in a fortress,
a prisoner by choice,
behind my impregnable walls of
stone.
Who I am,
matters little as I count the
hours of each frigid night,
as my salvation rests,
in the tomorrows yet to come,
while I refuse to surrender to
the darkness,
for as long as I can see,
the faintest glimmer,
of hope’s flickering light
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