An internal turmoil,
That is infamously called life.
It causes us nothing but strife
In everything you do so hard you must toil.
A heart that feels nothing but frustration,
Caged like a bird in all its desperation.
To escape and be free,
Would be such a sweet victory.
A mind plagued with the concepts of duty,
Will always be a burden of too much responsibility
Like a black crow that guards the tower
My feet are grounded unfortunately forever.
Hands chained and feet shackled
Life has me always in its grip tightly buckled
No net of safety, no air bag to soften the blow
This life has me at an all time low
They say patience bears sweet fruit
But here is the honest truth
Life is nothing but a big brute.
Keep drowning in this abyss
Would much rather an eternal sleep
And feel nothing but ignorant bliss
But life has its claws seeped into me way too deep.
Walking through thorns
Is this really why we were born?
Gliding through fire
Who knew life could be so dire
And so we struggle in this never ending fight
To feel that piece of happiness so bright
With clipped wings, chained hands and shackled feet
From this blood-thirstiness of life can we never retreat.
~The Poet~
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