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.