Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Battle of Good and Evil

A poem close to my heart. Written based upon my experience in attempted suicide, that, thankfully, was stopped by the Good Lord. Hope you enjoy and take in the meaning behind the words. 

Battle of Good and Evil

In these times my heart sinks, my mind is filled with dread
Sorrow clouds all my thoughts; my lips can no longer smile
Tears pour down my anguished face as I see the pain of others
My gut is filled with knots and turns from my terrible angst
Trembling I hit the cold ground, weak from desperate sorrow
My feet and legs have lost all will to hold my heavy weight
Hands that no longer hold or grasp; arms that no longer lift
Helplessness fills my very being, unable to give aide
Screams fill my aching ears, my eardrums threatening to burst
Blood encompasses my nostrils, burning itself into my brain
Bitterness lights itself on my tongue, torturing my taste buds
Sourness rapes my mind, forcing its way into my memory
All hope seems lost, faith ebbs, disappearing like smoke
Darkness encompasses the very existence of humanity
Storm clouds fill the sky, swirling in bitter angry circles
The wind whips furiously, dust tears harshly at my face
Death is immanent, roaring like a black train in the night

But wait, all hope may not be lost, some may yet remain
Light bursts through the darkness, piercing the cloud’s heart
Thunder is silenced and lightning out shone by the sunlight
Cutting wind is calmed, replaced with a peaceful silence
The sourness in my memory, overthrown with joyful throngs
The bitterness on my tongue turns to a beautiful sweetness
Scents of flowers creeps into my nostrils, replacing the blood
Joyful cries burst through the screams, ears leaping for joy
Strength comes to my limbs as I push to my feet again
Hands grabbing my sword, arms lifting them high in the air
My gut now untangles its knots, jumping back to life again
Tears of joy rain down my face, glittering in the sun’s rays
A smile breaks my solemn lips, my heart pumping excitedly
We have been freed from our dreadful, painful sorrows
Hope is restored; victory is within our straining grasps
Victory means survival, survival is to live another day
To live another day, is to laugh in the face of immanent death

Thanks for reading. Hope this poem can mean as much to you all as it means to me. As always let me know your thoughts in the comments and feel free to share, just give credit where credit is due. 

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