My will to push my
Boundry is slowly dying.
I only desire to lie back
And be one more additive,
A catalyst, to an
Equation I no longer
Understand.
My arms are heavy with
The load I’ve drawn and
Lifted.
My muscles are taut and
Thick,
But without intent.
My gaze, Intelligent,
But without hope.
A loaded dice rolled
A Thirty something while
I argued about my
Childhood’s faults.
When the Lord
Decided to play
Tough,
You meekly follow.
I didn’t argue about
How the Sun didn’t
Shine as bright as
I thought it should.
I bowed my head,
And asked for forgiveness.
Because He does not suffer
Fools.
He his the Sun for
Days that stretched into weeks.
I bowed my head and simply
Wept.
I begged for my sight to
Behold the brightly lit
Fire, that my eyes refused
To acknowledge.
I begged, but mt eye
Only saw desolation
And death;
It saw shadows and
Vermins; pain and
Trauma.
So used to the
hidden shadows
That when He lifted
The veil,
I startled and
Died.
Siddiqui F.
(25.09.2017)
NB: I began this in Petit on 25.09.2017, but the last three paragraphs were written at home.
Ho-Hum 