Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Poem: Serenity Freed


Even as I write this, I am trembling and screaming bloody murder internally.

I do not want to be in this situation anymore.

It is too pompous, pretentious, and disturbing.

I found the entire fake self-assurance droll as drowning in a sea of ennui.

How little we are, and how little we think of the world.

True, in its infinite state, we are nothing comparable to insignificant iotas.

But what they do not foolishly know and blatantly ignore in its glorious face,

is that the sum of the parts is indeed greater than the whole.

I fear it is too late for me, too desecrated for sanctuary,

too temporal for tranquility and serenity.

Oh, Serenity, serenity – how bittersweet a glimpsing taste it leaves on my tongue.

Insanity is what it is.

Insanity to choose, insanity to feel, sheer insanity to live

As I lay my weary head for the close, cooling embrace of slumber,

I have only one thought in the vacuous space of a mind.

For the sake of all that is decent and good,

Will it never cease and desist?

Will it remain or resist?

No comments:

Post a Comment