Swiss isolation - "Luganese" stillness
Deadly Duo awakening the naked nature within my ribs:
Look... one thousand wounds and one
I never saw in me an "over traumatized-ME"!
For each single wound, one thousand tears and one
Once repressed, now are FLOODING
Screams, once suffocated, now are LASHING
my throat, my sanity, my being...
No more "wrapping and keep walking /
walking and keep wrapping"...
Intruding eyes of colleagues, go away
you won't be able to fathom
My heritage of pain, My legacy of bleeding
... You, yes YOU across the universe
lead me to the healing warmth of love
to the sweet security of belonging to someone somewhere
to the sheer simplicity of being without open wounds
Just be to lead me for my feet are too heavy;
my breath too fragile; my memory too haunted
to continue my path on my own:
So ... Just Be!
3 comments:
A wound leads to nothing if it's not accepted , and it should be.
in fighting for your life , you should never forget that, just as you should never forget that both tears and joy are part of the fight.
what isnt a part of the fight is becoming paralysed by fear.
the only way to make the right desicion is to know what the wrong decision is , you have to examine the other path , without fear and then decide.
to anonymous, when you speak about "the wrong decision", you remind me of "Black Swan" book (I loved the book whose writer is Lebanese)...
Anyway my poem is not about right or wrong but rather about expressing my exhaustion after conducting 100 wars.
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