inexpressable

sorrow

like an anchor
on my heart
dragging to depths
beyond measure

solitude

like a rod
heated by the flames
of hell itself
searing
the tender flesh
of my esteem

hate

spoken to my soul
by my own mind
uttered with silent breath
and left to echo
in the halls
of despair

grief

rotting the roots
of my compassion
until the stench
of decay
overwhelms me

death

welcoming
promise of silence
and release
from the demons
of my existence

oh
that it were only time
to pass through
the gate
and feel no more

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2 thoughts on “inexpressable

    • This is true – very true. And while I say I wait for death – I do not “seek it out” or look for ways to speed it up. I believe death would be a welcome, but it is not “mandatory” in my view. I understand there is still hope, no matter how small, like a single candle burning in the depths of a cavern – it still gives light, even if it doesn’t seem to travel far.
      Perhaps the thing is to try to move closer to the candle … without blowing it out.

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