Random poems

Questions, No Answers

I stand alone, with a sword between my fingertips.

I hold it tight while I see what's in front of me.

Is it a dark hollow shadow? 

Is it pain hiding behind the edges of my brain? 

Is it something that I can't get over? 

I think and I think, over and over about an answer to my own question. 

But I continue to ask and ask. The words flow through my mouth as a streaming river. 

Each word is soothing as it touches the tips of my tongue. Holding its sweet taste. 

More and More, same to same. Questions and Questions are flowing through my mouth. I want to answer something to find out my own path.

The path to freedom. A path to life. Something that isn't latching me to hold on. Like a fragile baby suckling on the tips of the milk bottle. 

Fed and Fed to the frim of no independence. Something is holding me back. A claw reaches in front of me, pulling me into a void. 

I want to stop this pulling feeling, which washes the pain through my skin and my heart 

My head fills up with lies and anger towards the claw. It takes me away because I couldn't fight it. Because I couldn't answer.