Eternal Purgatory

I am a mild tidal wave in a tsunami of unrealised potential
My hopes and dreams are shipwrecked on the beach of opportunities
The verb in me is sea sick yet there is no motion

The fabric of my essence was weaved with ambition and possibilities

I used to be bound immaculately in glistening threads of potential

The more I polished, the more my future would shine

I would labour long and hard to give birth to my dreams

My perspiration would give my ebony skin a new layer of determination and in my mind’s eye my path was set

I was drunk on what I was going to become and no amount of deviation would sober me from my intoxication

But as life would have it, the fabric of my essence wore out

The threads loosened, and my future slowly dimmed out

I could no longer conceive and I lay barren in a bed scattered with disappointment

The blood of my dead dreams staining the sheets

What am I to become when my present tense died in my past tense

I am a mild tidal wave in a tsunami of unrealised potential

My hopes and dreams are shipwrecked on the beach of opportunities

The verb in me is sea sick yet there is no motion

I personify stagnation, ambition dead in a grave of non-action

I am the coffin, the mourners and the funeral procession

There is no heaven for my dreams

My ambition is destined to a fate worse than hell: Eternal Purgatory

I Do Not Weep

I do not weep for generations past

I weep for traditions that for long won’t last

It seems the future is bleak

The young have morals far too weak

 

I don’t not fear for a childhood that was

I fear for the childhood that makes no fuss

To play outside and climb up trees

But instead is brainwashed by the digital images it sees

 

The world is turning on itself and we are to blame

Using religion to kill in His name

I do not cry for the time we once had

I cry for the violence that makes humanity sad

 

Times ahead are grim at best

Girls ballooned with implants in their chest

I do not regret the natural beauty we used to hail

I regret the plastic look that seems to prevail

 

I do not beg for handouts or charity

I beg for a better world of clarity

So my children can know the reality that was mine

Maybe send them there or give them a sign

 

The future ahead I did not fear

Until it was close, its repulsiveness far too clear

Wishing upon wish that it was not so near

But alas, the future is here

 

I do not weep for generations past

I weep for traditions that for long won’t last

Peace and tranquillity have all died

And to a constant fright, I am tied

 

The world is shallow and the disaster is deep

And for that, I weep and weep.