I believe that the truth, like many things, is subjective. Everyone has his or her own version of the truth
Right now, my truth is dark and gloomy.
My truth is tragic and melancholy.
My truth is filled with lonely days and cold nights.
My truth tries to valiantly march on.
My truth gets trampled down.
Right now, my truth is blank.
My truth has no future; my truth has no life.
My truth is filled with longing and wishing.
My truth tries to free itself of any regrets.
My truth gets mired in the gloom.
Right now, my truth is an enigma.
My truth has lost its way.
My truth is trapped between worlds.
My truth tries to pick a path and get free.
My truth lies in dying.
A vivid perspective, and a valid claim, as truth is definitely subjective. I understand the repetition, but I wonder, what would this look like without so much? Honestly it bogged me down. I like it better this way... but it's just me playing around with an edit, take it with a grain of salt ...
"Right now, my truth is dark and gloomy,
tragic and melancholy,
filled with lonely days and cold nights,
and valiantly tries to march on,
but my truth gets trampled down.
Right now, my truth is blank,
has no future, no life,
filled with longing and wishing,
and tries to free itself of any regrets,
but my truth gets mired in the gloom.
Right now, my truth is an enigma,
has lost its way,
trapped between worlds,
and tries to pick a path and get free,
but my truth lies in dying."
awesome.
a subjective evaluation of truth...i loved the way you presented it.
and the repetition of My Truth is just perfect, the unknown is being filled...its striking hard to the head of the nail, again and again..pushing it deep inside...inside my mind....
very expressive.
and i love the last line too...my truth lies in dying....pointing towards the irony...
your poem took all the aspects of life, in main, under its consideration.