Setting sail on a calm sea,
waking up to a new horizon,
if only there had come to be,
A hope that this would be a good day,
But then up surge the waves,
And the sails are torn,
And I'm tossed about,
Until I can fight no more,
Then I fall into the murky depths,
And witness one more of many self-deaths.
"This is not the end," I say,
Lying to salvage what's left,
"Tomorrow is a new hopeful day."
But in my heart, I don't believe it,
And just like that a week is ruined,
My positivity is shattered,
And my balance is upended,
As my ship is battered,
Slowly towards the next submission.
So many forces at work,
Trying to erode my principles,
Temptation, and the enemy berserk,
Always eventually shoving me down in submission,
To a vice that has me by the neck,
With taunts of satisfaction,
Which leaves me in a reck,
And in thoughts of self-perdition.
I fight, I fight, I fight,
But the grip is too tight, too tight, too tight,
Pulling me into the deep, dark, night,
Farther from what's right, what's right, what's right,
Oh dear God,
This isn't me,
I never want to be like this,
The reason this is still attached to me,
Is cause I like it, but I hate it,
but I like it, but I hate it,
I hate it and want it to die!
But I never fully let it go,
Every time I try.
Every time I let it go,
It waits behind the scenes,
And patiently watches me,
Until I reach another low,
Then it comes waltzing back in,
Promising peace from anxiety,
And even though I know it's a sin,
I let it back into me.
When it's all over again,
And my ship is again on the rocks,
I realize that I fell back in,
And left my resolve at the docks.
YOU ARE READING
Philosopholi: Inferno
PoetryThis is the first of a series of three books each containing poetry I've written in three different states of mind. This first part to this series is comprised of poems I wrote while depressed or frustrated. As you read these poems, you will eithe...
