All

This poem's genesis began with an anxiety attack; one in which the fabric of my existence was about to crumble into the void of complete nothingness, or so it seemed.

Your eyes tell me of grief

Stories of broken glass

Fallen hopes and wishes

Those holy watered eyes

Composed of salt and cries

For freedom that is there

Your eyes speak more than grief

A constant loop of pain

Remembrance of what was,

Terror of what will come

Denial of façades

You believe to be true

Have you thought of enough?

Are you willing to go?

Not you, but another

The one that “you” believe

You are? A suppressor?

Why restrain your true light?

Great Dogmas birth great strife

‘Divine’ Oligarchy

Sustain your sweet half truths

Make your herd to believe

There is only one way

To rise grand unveilings

You who absorb others

Übermensch or prophet

When will you truly know

That they preach their own truth?

Mirrored, opposing tongues

Lies are facts; facts are lies

They’ve had the same goal

Truth is of alcohol

Pain at first, healing next

“You” may fear, detest it

But know once “you” will fade

You will be what you are

Author's Note

Although I categorized this as a religious poem, it's mostly due to the inability to leave the genre field blank.

Reviews

[Abraham George]

You who absorb others
Übermensch or prophet
When will you truly know
That they preach their own truth?
Mirrored, opposing tongues
Lies are facts; facts are lies

They’ve had the same goal
Truth is of alcohol
Pain at first, healing next
“You” may fear, detest it
But know once “you” will fade
You will be what you are


lies are fact and fact are lies- just like the Shakespeare says- brilliant.

pain is the weakness releasing from our body. so let it pain.

great work

[Ezra Akiloye]

I appreciate the feedback, friend.