Keep yourself busy,
Blast the music, Plug up those head phones,
And deaf yourself with everything outside,
All in the attempt to override, quiet the inner noise.
In comes the thoughts anyway,
Bursting through the barred doors of your conscience,
Flooding them with streams of guilt
Staining the walls with regret,
Check.
The counterfeit comfort of the busy day subsides,
Slipping as the sun kisses the horizon fare well
And in the darkness sounds your defeat,
As sour tears fill your eyes,
From the hurt of the sudden removal of the duct tape,
That covered the mouth of your conscience.
The voice that had long been lost, Finds itself again from the dark corners of your mind,
Check.
No it is all but okay, just fine, the norm.
Glamorous the world paints it all,
But the glitter fades in the absence of the light,
And questions take the night shift,
Guarding the mind in all its restlessness.
Jealous should you not be for the things of this world,
For you have met them there and so will the ones after you.
Oh how sweet does it look from the outside,
The myopic vision of the world that renders the long term goals useless.
Live for now,
Enjoy the short term satisfaction.
Don't you feel it in your concrete hearts,
Yet to harden it to stone?
Have you seen but failed to notice?
How is it that so comfortable you seem sitting on the fence,
Thinking it smart that you haven't chosen your side,
Failing to realise that this in itself is a choice.
Check.
Check yourself before there is time no more to do so,
Check before the infectious sin has smothered your inner voice,
And dumb you stand,
Drunken with the wine of the earth's fornication you fall,
Fall into the abyss of self-pity, driven by self-indulgence of the flesh,
Of which is wide and many fall into,
While little are those to tell the tale.
The confusion is contagious,
Turn not to your right nor left,
But let your peripheral vision be blurred
From the brightness of his glory.
Hushed are those who believed him not
And even them now join in the acknowledgement of him as GOD
Before they are scorched by his presence.
Check, check as reality unwinds
The last tick-tock sounds.
May the end be also your beginning.
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Shadows Of My Heart (poetry from the soul; for the soul)
PoetryPoetry is life, written the way one sees it and lives it. Every experience is a word that begins a poem that speaks the length of a novel. 'Shadows Of MY Heart' takes the noticeable, everyday occurrences to explain the deeper ones that go unnoticed...
