No break, no bow, no bending for me
Here in my heart,
beyond the bars of intellect and reason.
I sift through the years of loathing,
not staid, not stoic.
To transcend this, my hate, I know I can’t.
I am it.
It is me.
I bear it with hubris,
I play my part.
But… I ask:
How much more?
How much longer should I stay in here?
A shell of a man these things have made me.
These dark desires fill my soul
And creates in paradise a pale faced pit.
How much longer will it contaminate my blood
I watch the centuries through a forlorn fog—
A little about me and poetry
This poem is my submission to the School Poetry 100 Day Challenge hosted by @d-pend, whom I would like to thank for sponsoring this competition. He is indeed a godsend. Though a bit dubious, I would consider myself an intermediate writer of poetry. My first love is prose, so if you get a feel of something other than verse in my poetry that is why. I use poems to assist me when I have writer’s block. This strategy, however, seems to be morphing into something more serious. At least I think so.
Thanks for reading.