Desolate Redemption

Desolate Redemption long poem

Photo by Damian Gadal

Listening to nothing in my ribcage
I see the void growing deep within

Playing catch with blame and misery
I bleed sense unto past memories.

I am machine a part of me is a soldier
enlisted to serve broken dreams.

Wrestling the present to push through
I am pinned down with things I cant change

Should I put my guns down and call-
for truce hoping for release from this pain?

It is a beautiful pain compared to the void-
lurking in a future shining with distrust.

Every step I take seems like a blow-
that leaves me to spat my soul on and on.

I wish I can say goodbye to the dark
I wish I can witness sunrise but am stuck.

All I have are broken pieces and fragments-
of questions never answered.

I can’t find the reason for all this chaos.
So I keep wishing for a miracle.

Seems like a ritual of everlasting agony-
and so my search for desolate redemption goes on.

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Pasithea Anima Libera

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Impressionist who enjoys writing poetry in symbolism laced with philosophy. Visit
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