THE CLIMAX (ANTI)

 

I am hopeless,

Tongs of steel weigh down,

Wrenching deep down my decadent soul

Why, I ask myself?

Why do I feel so run down?

So low down, begotten son...

Why so helpless?

So heavy laden?

Why?

Why are the rungs ladders weighing over me?

I cannot find my path...

I cannot reap my fruit...

 

Dark days shadow my thought

My wet wings cannot fly

The ship cannot sail

Limbs cannot partake into journey.

Why?

 

My eyes are filled with clout

The silver lining is not in my clouds

My heart is filled with empty pangs

Solid reason and rhyme of pure doubt

Season of bile and gout

Pile of dirt and grimace

Why?

Why do I dread my days?

 

A silent foe knocks...

And I know I must untangle the locks

But the closed door watches and watches

Window of hope stares with passion

An unfamiliar fashion

Why must I feel so helpless and impatient?

Now, when pillars of strength stand beside me?

Now, when hope and dream shake each other’s hand?

 

But now, the straight road,

Becomes a weary bend

Rundown trend

And I begin to feel down,

Trodden,

Down and out

Why am I up and about?

Criss-crossing inside a well,

Sinking so deep, going round and round?

 

But all feelings must pass

They do puff, huff, and then pass

And even a hapless mind must,

See the light and take part

Even I must tread my dreadful path

Even I must take this fateful path