WHAT HAVE WE BECOME

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WHAT HAVE WE BECOME

Pushing, fighting, trying to live.

No one knows what he’s been through.

Why is it so, that we can't let any one in.

 

Chained by the hate, the anger, beating each other,

having to force all out of the internal force field.

 The unseen ring extends, with each fight.

Extending the territory, with each blow,

with each segment torn out.

 

Beaten for the truth, tormented with the scars,

to prove the pain, the harassment of those,

who you won't expect the least of.

The betrayal of an insider, is the hardest to forget,

the most pain one can endure, and the scars are the deepest.

 

The innocence of that one you know,

that doesn't know they are the betrayals or

maybe they know. 

Still can feel the marking of the sword, the burning, the blood.

The memories still haunt the mind, the soul.

 

Burning the heart, placing it out for the crows to feed off the unwanted.

Laying there open, exposed to the world, fearless, untamed.

The links of the chains, open, as life, hope and freedom have gone.

Nothing left, no light, as the corpse lies there, emptying.

For there is nothing if hope is gone, love is none.

 

Sitting there, looking at him, untouched by his love,

motionless, he lies there.

She doesn't look him in the eye,

as she is afraid, not of him,

but of the love he has.

He reaches out a hand to her,

but she turns a blind eye.

Afraid to love or to be loved.

The emptiness feeds off him, killing him slowly.

 

Walking over him, the world doesn’t acknowledge his being,

Unnoticed by the world, he lies there all alone,

Not a soul, a touching hand, faith, none…

The world goes by leaving him there,

Everyone so engulfed in their own worlds, own pain,

Own fears, untouched by the soul that lies there.

 

So fast is our worlds, that we don’t look at the small things in life,

Eaten by greed, power, material needs.

The world goes on, without sight….

Sight of the sunrise, the stars, the flowers, love.

 

We fight to live, but when are we free,

Free from the earthly chains.

Freedom is light, I am the light.

Free from all the dimensions of the world.

Free from the shell of life.

 

Now I am free from the chains,

In the clouds of love, hope and happiness.

Leaving sadness, pain and grief all behind.

 

I am now free.

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Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

Roachpoet’s Poems (3)

Title Comments
Title Comments
WHAT HAVE WE BECOME 0
EVIL WITHIN 0
Silent Whispers 0