My Soul
My Darkness. It’s like a hurricane rampaging thru my soul. It purges everything that I try to make whole. Its chaotic winds charge the clouds that strike my rough raging waters. No longer necessary is hunger for holy water. The doctrine set forth has long since been purged, and I am left without a method to the madness that remains. My Once Loved. You could say that I am without direction but it is you who has no emotion. You left me to dry in the winds before the storm without an answer to the begging. If you would have been honest and just spoke to me sooner maybe I would’ve been ok, but that time is over. The repercussions of your actions are the consequences of my indicative response. My lust for love led me farther from my true desire than I could ever dream. Forgiven, seven times seven and another seven before I choose if I should forgive your error entirely. You left me no choice but to sit in the rain, and let the cold steal the affection for life that I had left. Day after day I tried to forget and found myself lying awake, thinking about your transgression. All I asked was for the truth, and every time I asked I received a response different than before. That is what really shook me to the core. The need you had to lie made it a chore, and in those chores my faith faded like a flower wilting in the cold. Communication was always an issue but some said two wrongs make a right. That two of the same awkward strangers they saw everyday would be a perfect match. I find that ticket already scratched and torn and patched before thrown to the hounds as food to survive the storm. And I bleed my hands with knives to provide them with water to no avail. Though my strength is fierce and my longing strong, the length at which they were stretched found a way to break their bonds. My Friend. I can’t imagine if you were dead. You left an impression that no regression can erase. You made a crease that eased the pain and covered the mountainous scares of love lost like only you can. And it was I who thought I was a man, but you showed me how to be better. It was you that taught me how to grow in the Garden of Grace and let my trees turn stone. We left one of those trees to grow, and it was the exception, the one that you owned.
What are your thoughts on this poem?
My Thoughts on Demise 14
The man’s thoughts have become more like rambling. He addresses the darkness inside of him, telling us how it behaves, what it’s like. He is consumed by it and accepts that he no longer needs holy water, that whatever his faith was it is gone and there’s no getting it back.
He turns his thoughts to his “once loved”, an odd implication since he seems to still love and desire her, but as I said, the man is rambling. He gives us more insight with each line about what happened, his side of the story. It is clear he blames her for her faults and that he only ever wanted the truth. It was the one thing he wanted that she apparently could not give him. It makes one wonder if he was expecting a specific “truth” and not the actual truth of the matter. It also makes one wonder if she was really at fault too. Then again, we’ve all parted ways with people who have lied and never given us closure.
This poem is wrapped up with a stanza about the man’s friend. We don’t have a clear picture on who exactly this is in the story, only that the friend was someone this man relied on so much so that he can pull himself out of his maddening thoughts and speak without spite. Well, for a few lines at least.
So often we find ourselves holding grudges. Sometimes, those grudges end relationships, sometimes they destroy people, and sometimes they destroy ourselves. This man experienced the whole course as a consequence of holding some grudge against this woman. We cannot let ourselves fall into dwelling on the past; we must make it history, and that means learning from what has happened and moving on from it. It is one thing to recall a memory and glean information from it; it is another to brood upon the events day after day without any benefit other than a foul mood.
Question Section
In the period I wrote this collection, I did a lot of self-reflecting but also a lot of brooding. I found myself lost in figuring out who I was and what I wanted out of life, especially when life was not throwing me easy balls to catch. My mood was dictated by the thoughts I had and I could only work through so much before I would give up for a while. It was a struggle but I kept at it with the support of those around me. In time, I found ways to sort out my thoughts and not dwell on the past. So, that brings up the question. Have you ever dwelled on something insignificant that ruined your whole day (or more)? Why did you dwell on it and what could you have done to move past it? Feel free to let me and other readers know in the comments in the comments below.
I hear another poem is coming every Saturday!