POETRY ON MEDIUM
Prisoner of Existence
Seeking solace and direction in life while negotiating a labyrinth of conflicting emotions.
Similar to a compass that becomes stuck and waits for someone to turn it in the correct direction to reveal a new path, this poem is merely the accumulation of emotions surrounding a hidden heart that is pinched and craves to be loved.
Like a compass on a remote island,
That has had its gates closed for ages.
Without moving its arrow in any direction,
My angle stands still, like a corpse,
Which feels alive when touched,
However, it is dead without purpose.
Maybe someone needs to oil it.
As the device needs to come
Out of its rustic shell and breathe in the air.
There’s this: the loss of focus
And a lane of existential crisis that does
I do not know anything but it is still moving.
Akin to a prisoner, I feel clueless about everything.
As if I am a homeless spirit in search of deep love,
A feeling that can completely heal me
And treat the wounds cemented on my bruised gut,
Giving aid with soft kisses like rose petals,
While heaping swan songs and hymns of praise.
With much contemplation and holding,
I have a list with all my dreams written on it.
It feels charred and unfinished, with a slight hope.
Caged with unknown and fragile thoughts,
My body feels like a weightless bone.
It still lacks life and requires nourishment.
I need a Samaritan who can hold my hands.
And save me from all the bad storms.
That has kept me captivated in a rotten cell.
Not providing me with any clue of escapism,
To stride through all the ordeals and come
Out of the bad skin to embrace the new skull.
This is not the end of the road but
Rather, it is a hint of a new beginning
That might bring some respite and healing.
Filled with signs of new experiences,
Layered piece by piece in phases,
Displaying happiness and a roadmap to fill the left void.
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