Worn and wasted,
tired and torn,
my spirit is shattered,
like a cloth shorn.
Lying on my deathbed,
waiting to die,
i close my eyes ,
and the past is revived.
The past filled with memories,
both bitter and sweet,
taking me back to that ol street,
with houses so familier,
and faces so dear,
a chilhood of beautiful dreams,
sans any fear.
Promising a future,
Ah! so bright,
with troubles and sorrows,
no where in sight.
An uncurbed spirit,
a soul so free,
unaware of the chains,
binding a woman to be.
The chains grew slowly,
like the roots of a tree,
firming their hold,
over my destiny.
The once boyant spirit,
stifling a scream,
pained by the sight,
of destroyed dreams.
The noose grew tighter,
as age set in,
burning dreams to ashes,
killing all desires within.
The spirit lost the battle,
slowly beginning to die,
the walls closing in,
choking the last cry.
The last cry of agony,
pain and despair,
I lie waiting to let go,
of a life so unfair.
As death spreads its blanket,
like dark clouds over me,
i close my eyes smiling,
yerning to be free,
of all the social evils, perils
and atrocities.
For they can kill my body,
my mind,my spirit, my zeal,
but the soul would remain untouched,
and live on for eternity.
AGAIN WOW! Beautiful, poetic, deep, and feminist. I think the theme can be extended to compare youth and old age in general also. we are all "uncurbed" (love the word) spirits as youngsters, and the entire world lies ahead in possibility. As you get older, the possibilities have been exhausted, the bluff of hope has been called. what can you do but look back?
ReplyDeletelook back and think of things you could have done differently.... its very difficult t live a life sans any regrets...
ReplyDelete