I know I have been quiet for a while, that is because a slightly dark period has been going on in my life. There was a point where I even thought about giving up on my writing. Some very wise friends of mine reminded me that it is during these dark periods where writing is both therapeutic and often the best work is born out of turmoil.
I am now at a point in my writing career where it is so deeply routed into me that it is physically impossible for me to give up. Last week I had periods when I was so weak that I could barely pick up a pen. Suddenly thoughts churned round in my head and a knee jerk reaction to these thoughts made me pen the following poem;
Without Pain!
I felt I was going insane
and wanted to numb my pain.
Not even thinking,
into darkness shrinking.
Letting my myself crash and burn,
nowhere to turn.
More than loss of control,
destruction of my soul.
Letting it build up,
then suddenly erupt.
No more tears to weep,
I wanted to fall asleep.
For it all to be forsaken,
to never awaken.
After many a fall,
a moment away from it all.
No stamina to run the race,
a fall from grace.
Down on the floor,
the truth I could not ignore.
I lost all the will,
swallowing a bitter pill.
Hanging by a flimsy thread,
a sense of dread.
I am now at a point in my writing career where it is so deeply routed into me that it is physically impossible for me to give up. Last week I had periods when I was so weak that I could barely pick up a pen. Suddenly thoughts churned round in my head and a knee jerk reaction to these thoughts made me pen the following poem;
Without Pain!
I felt I was going insane
and wanted to numb my pain.
Not even thinking,
into darkness shrinking.
Letting my myself crash and burn,
nowhere to turn.
More than loss of control,
destruction of my soul.
Letting it build up,
then suddenly erupt.
No more tears to weep,
I wanted to fall asleep.
For it all to be forsaken,
to never awaken.
After many a fall,
a moment away from it all.
No stamina to run the race,
a fall from grace.
Down on the floor,
the truth I could not ignore.
I lost all the will,
swallowing a bitter pill.
Hanging by a flimsy thread,
a sense of dread.
Comments
Post a Comment