This War
A silent war wages inside me.
It’s not a dream or an intellectual fantasy
or a child’s stubborn desire.
The fake smile does not speak of the soul on fire.
On and on the fire rages on
and burns everything it sets its sights on.
Ember is the color of my emotion,
And I wander lost and forlorn.
This war has taken so much from me
and in return I get a bleeding heart and orphanage.
Often I’ve found myself standing on the ledge,
thinking if I should give in or get in,
cheating death or accepting it, which one is a sin?
I do not know; my heart is in a dilemma.
I live each day but I am not alive.
My mind now and then goes for a dive
into the dark abyss of solitude.
In a corner it escapes, my heart cold and nude,
and leaves me alone to social niceties.
I am empty and hollow to all of it,
my smile takes charge and I let it
but without the mind and soul it surrenders in a minute.
This war that wages inside me
is not merciful and kills me slowly.
All alone I wield my sword of hope and fight
demons only visible to my sight
and sometimes I hear whispers from flight
telling me to run towards the light
but where there is light, darkness exists too
and follows me as shadows
and for the crimes I commit, I’m taken to the gallows.
On the guillotine of life, as fates blade hangs over me,
I lie in wait of either pardon or death
but the anticipation kills me as neither I get.
The sun on the horizon rises and sets
but I wait and I wait………
And then suddenly I hear a sound
and I wake up as the world moves around
without a care or a thought for me,
Or a kind look or empathy.
I get none, not even words of sympathy.
As the violin strikes, another mournful tune is played,
my insides like the instrument is hollow and afraid.
And echoes the story of an orphaned child,
found amidst a fire that runs wild.
If only people could catch a glimpse of this emptiness
or be visible to my presence and see,
and if people could listen to my heart
only then would they understand this war that wages in me.