ALONE
When fate grows fierce, when fortune breaks its chain,
When heaven withdraws and earth begins to sway,
When anguish grips you with unyielding strain,
Expect no help, no hand, no guiding ray.
You fall alone, my friend
And rise alone again.
No uproar, no outcry, not even a dirge.
The absent multiply when trials descend,
And the world becomes a lifeless, barren scourge.
Man gives no aid unless there's gain to measure;
Empathy, you see, is mostly spoken lore.
Those who loved you once now guard their treasure,
They flee your hunger, and your wounds they ignore.
Hope not for hearts that flinch at sorrow’s face,
Stretch not your hand again, nor turn your cheek.
When famine cried in you, they turned in disgrace,
And when you shattered none dared even speak.
Yet you, for them, were all a brother is
The rock in storms, the lamp that lit their night.
You were their refuge, bread, and guiding bliss;
They gave you nothing just silence veiled in light.
So I said: thank you.
Thank you to me to me alone,
For not collapsing beneath the thunder’s cry.
I made myself a shield when all was stone,
And forged my strength while staring at the sky.
Be wall, be law that is what must be done.
Salvation rises from the soul’s own birth.
Each for himself, my brother, trust no one
The help of others is a myth on earth.
I’ve known despair, and emptiness, and dread,
Stretched out a thousand hands, all left untouched.
And those I called, in rags and tears I bled,
Fled me like one whose grief is far too much.
They said: “Had I been you, I’d not let you starve!”
But lies were in their mouths, and fear in eyes.
True friendship shows when naked roads are carved,
When there’s no coin, no shelter, no disguise.
I saw so few no crowd at sorrow’s gate.
Perhaps one soul, one glance, a sacred hush.
But those few hearts, beyond the grasp of fate,
Give meaning to the word "brother" as such.
Let all the others go where coldness leads them.
I hold no hate,
No longer bear a flame.
Misfortune is a mirror it defeats them,
For in its glass, they tremble at their shame.
Yes, we live alone at times, alone we cry,
Alone we bear the weight that silence breeds.
But man holds deep within, though he ask why,
A dark-born force that rises when he bleeds.
And in my hell, I had the sacred grace
To be embraced by souls of burning light.
To them, I say from my most secret place:
You made me whole and gave my soul its right.
Copyright © Auguste Romain Nyecki | Year Posted 2025
|