"Until you cross the bridge of your insecurities, you can't explore your possibilities." -Tim Fargo
An apprehended soul, gasping for limited air,
hemmed in by her fogged and addled thoughts,
wishing everything could be normal again.
Incessantly reaching for hands,
Ceaselessly crying for help.
Internally screaming, struggling,
and ending up choking.
Sophisticated, failing to breathe, yet again.
For always being a burden to the innocents,
unable to bridle the self-guilt that is swallowing her deep.
Blundered by the melancholic feeling,
Exhaustively annihilating, nothing to keep.
Acknowledging her fragility,
Incapable of escaping on her own.
Rains to rainbows,
months to years,
locked within her own destructing mind.
Driving to forge through the field of men,
Bending her cogitations towards the brighter, more positive future,
proceeding, even with the smoldering bleakness.
Alas, fallen between cracks.
A question that is constantly running in her head,
Left unanswered by many she asked.
The veracity she is yet to comprehend,
"Why me?"
DR.
I am an Ameri-...Canadian who stumbled upon this blog, and more specifically this poem by pure chance. In no way was I coerced to comment here, but if i were i would make statements such as your use of literary devices are very impressive. The combination of alliteration and assonance in this line "Incessantly reaching for hands,Ceaselessly crying for help.Internally screaming, struggling," really pushes the reader along and gives a sense of the "mental fight" the author is conveying. Overall decent prose with a lot of potential.
ReplyDeleteThank you, a million times thank you! I appreciate your comment, hehe😁
DeleteHye, I'm Muthusami from Bengaluru, just wanted to say that you are really good at choosing words and making narrative. Hope you will continue the spirit lorh!
ReplyDeletethis isn't narrative, but thank you so much for reading, I appreciate it! hihi
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