• Poetry

    Poem: Life in my Hand

     

     

    I can’t keep up with the world
    Since it tries to act as a double edge sword
    The more I kill the enemy
    The more it pierces through me
    In the end, I don’t have anything to defend
    In the end, should I pretend
    Not to be hurt
    And just smile
    When in fact I am about to die
    The string of faith is not so strong
    They break as you walk along
    Rip apart when you start creating art
    And when you close yourself inside
    Do you think you will die with pride?
    The sword keeps pushing inside of you no matter what you do
    No matter what you think
    No matter what you feel
    In the end, you’ll see what’s fake and what’s real
    Emotions and facts combined in life’s artifacts
    When you see one run
    Because harm will be done with one look
    That’s all that it took
    That’s all what it ever takes when you gaze
    And that’s not the end of the story
    Because you are driving a freaking lorry
    To an unknown destination
    Through the forest of procrastination
    The mountains of your desperation
    And the roads of the great depression
    Yet you are there sitting on your comfy chair
    Goin’ 80 miles per hour
    Screaming about life being sour
    The favorite thing about it is not knowing where you are going
    Because if you knew, what would you change, what would you be ever able to do?
    I don’t know me, I don’t know you
    What I really want to do is create myself
    Mold the me into whatever I want to be
    Stay true to the values I hold so dearly
    And preserver
    Life is not all about defense or attack
    Even if the double end sword will get me one day
    I will be able to say my last words
    They will echo to the chamber of life and death, in between
    Do you know what I mean?
    It will reach the end of the world, the end of the universe
    Because it will be like a fire from a verse
    It will hit deep and wake the gods up from their sleep
    Then, you ask me, what will happen?
    What will become of you?
    What will become of me?
    I don’t know a thing about you, but I will go out smiling, what will you do?