Exile - An Original Poem

Far away
from my home,
a stranger,
in a strange world.

The memories keep me company,
and I rejoice in their warmth and symphonies.

But the cold, harsh blade of this foreign land
cuts, digs deep and wounds me.

Forsaken for a crime I did not commit,
barred and shunned by my own people.

My name, scrubbed from history
only to be remembered as an enemy.

Though the days are behind me,
and strength is also bidding me adieu,
I still wake with a sense of patriotism
for the same country that I once called home.

The same country
I fought for, and loved.

A land so sacred and pure
it's touch can be felt a million miles away.

But now it lies a million leagues and more
behind the stormy mountains
across the blue oceans
beneath a sky that is blue forevermore.

And I do not feel anything
I am numb.

Regret salts my wounds
heightens my pain to heights unknown.

'Tis true I chose exile over death but
who am I to say that I made the right choice?

For every second and past moment
reminds me of my life back home.

Reminds me of this very choice and says
death is better than the eternal torture of exile.

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Source: 1