Life Defined
I have so many wounds that there is no way they can ever be healed.
The kindest of hearts, I have turned them against me-
running from and distrusting their intentions.
I have hurt a lot of innocent souls that deserved so much more love and sacrifice.
My heart screams for compassion as my diseased brain confuses
my thoughts into a foggy web of unnatural feelings and unfounded sadness.
The meaning of my pain and frustration hidden in words no human can translate.
Where is the peace promised through love that exists only by voices from the past?
What is truth but not a whisper of perception?
Tears fail to sooth my weary spirit as it screams to escape a hell of battered flesh.
Fear drags me into darkness and into crevasses that deepen
each moment of every hour as I await my inevitable demise.
The meaning of life may not be as elusive as pondered.
Death is the destination therefore life must be the adventure,
the trip from death to death.
Before we live we are dead so death is our beginning and our end.
Life is death in waiting.
Copyright © Andrea Simpson | Year Posted 2012
|