Where is our soul,
Where is our beauty…
Perhaps it is locked somewhere in an old, dusty….rusty cage of torment,
of hate.
These demons of anger won’t let us breathe,
These voices in our head,
The curse in our heart,
All push us to our own degradation, forcing us all to fall apart.
One moment we’re up, full of hope
Full of life,
The next moment we’re weak,
Fallen on our knees.
For years we have been stuck in the past,
Drowning in our sorrows,
Licking our old wounds,
As if the remembrance of the pain can somehow keep us sane.
As our sense of self melts like a burning candle of wax,
All that remains,
is a decomposed shell,
A mere manifestation of our past virtue.
We are fixed in the poison of our actions.
The silence of our unspoken might have led us to be physical, perplexed beings,
Beings with a false decorum of character.
Like a lost jewel in a desert,
Our passion, our integrity has vanished from the vicinity of our soul.
Living life blindly with no given role,
No sense of control.
We live our lives in a dark hole,
as a duplicitous mole with no sense of any lively goal.
Poetry
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