I feel it,
The tight grip,
Tighter and tighter,
With every moment.
Life, with its arms stretched,
Grabs me effortlessly,
By the neck,
I can't breathe,
Believe me when I say,
I do not stand still,
I struggle with everything I am,
I fight, with everything I think,
Everything my being conjures,
Into existence.
Until eventually,
It relinquishes it control over me,
I can breathe again.
The coming days,
Are filled with contempt,
Happiness,
Surface level deceit,
Clouds my judgement,
Like a programmed robot,
I follow suit, with life's affairs.
I'm complacent,
Relaxed,
In a downward spiral,
All too familiar,
All too warm,
All to comfortable,
Only to fall again,
At a standstill,
No wind in my sails,
I'm once again stuck,
Unmoving,
But warm.
The water is fine,
I see my reflection as I look,
At the side of my boat,
I look at my face,
A face that has already seen,
Many nights and days.
A face ultimately destined to wither with time,
I think, what have I done with it?
My health,
My vitality,
Has time really gone in vain?
Have I forsaken everything given?
Have I learned what I must?
How can I reach fulfillment?
How can I bathe in enlightenment?
Tranquility,
When will my mind,
Be at peace?
My judgement,
Within moments,
Lies clouded.
The once tranquil waters pick up again,
The sea is rough,
My reflection has since been lost,
And within moments,
once again.
I feel it,
The tight grip,
Tighter and tighter,
With every moment,
Life, with its arm stretched outward,
Within its reach grabs me effortlessly,
By the neck,
I can't breathe...
Not again...
YOU ARE READING
Abroad
PoetryThe purpose of this poetry book is one of defiance. Not to others, or anything in particular. It is against the war we wage internally, against ourselves every day. There is no bigger challenge in life than facing your thoughts, your true emotions...
