MARCH 2017
February & January
Worry
All attest that to be young is to be able.
Yet I stay trapped in myself, confined in the prison of my mind by this sickness.
Examined and injected to no avail.
No doctor can discern my condition; the sickness lies in the shadows.
My anonymous captor.
With unknown enemies to fight, I resign to helplessness.
Adrift on a sea of Nausea.
Isolation/Pain
Drowning in sweat, dizzy from exhaustion.
Yet no marathon have I conquered, only an inane conversation down the hallway.
Leaving this bed is a poisoned chalice.
That 5 minutes was my week’s highlight, yet my body is burning, beaten and bruised.
Entrapped in a vessel of pain.
If true loneliness is desiring what all others have, true isolation is desiring normality.
The tunnel is dark, with no end in sight.
Why
I haven’t been so open, so vulnerable or exposed
But now I know that now this is how the wind blows
For my life, my animus, from me so viciously torn
For I am weaker now, for I’ve a staggering thorn
I've been away a long long while, at least it feels that way
I haven't had the strength to smile, nor the time of day
Even every step I take is a tiresome lonesome walk
I even feel my eyes to fade every time I talk
I rise at the break of morn with a head of blistering nails
Did I do something wrong, where did I fail?
My wistful eye wanders up to the tent of blue
But then I'm smacked in the back by the dreadful truth
Last night I had no whisky, no wine, or gin, or beer
Why then am I feeling so helpless, weak, and queer
Why must I change my shirt five more times a day
I feel so tired and weary I can’t form words to pray
But if I had a question to God that I could ask
I would ask him for the help to do even the simplest task
I’d know He’d answer loud and clear, sagaciously and wise
Though I doubt I’d hear His answer above my mother’s cries
Don’t cry for me dear mother, don’t sigh for me my pa
I don’t know when the end will come but I know that it’s not far
My eye won’t be so wistful, my thoughts so forlorn
For I will be stronger then, from this staggering thorn
ENCYSTATION
It's taken me a long time to get young
And now I finally approach my youth
At least what's left of it
Stolen from the besetting clutches within the arena of the unwell
An arena I've longed to escape
But my helplessness my handicap
And my helplessness their burden
Has forbidden my departure
But to no fault of my own
Only now I realize
I wish, I wish, oh, I wish in vain
That the war will end with this battle, I pray
This final skirmish from the gates
Where death will die this day
I will be responsible
No more sweats and no more pain
No more headaches and no more restraints
I will leave the tomb I have long been inhumed within
This body of mine
I cannot allow to taint my mind
The only bastion of any kind of strength I have left
But as I said I can be dead already and dead again
I know where I will make my home
And this ailment has allowed me to realise
That home is where I choose it to be
And now I will evangelise, proselytise and idolise
The only way away from encystation
That no man may fall the same heights as I
To the same depths of me
It's my burden
That is too heavy to carry
But too light to drop
It is my torch, my cross to bear
But I will prevail
Like a shot from its sling
Tempered of heroic heart
I will endure, we will endure
April