I sit an agonized soul
whose life is being plundered
of all the things my heart
once held so dear.
Slowly and slowly my life
has retired into nothingness
as if I have fallen into a bottomless well
with no way to get out
with no future goals to cement,
only an empty existence wherever I may go.
Little by little my life is plundered of friends
and of the things I once enjoyed.
A pit of emptiness seems to open beneath me
with every footstep I take.
The more I struggle against it
the quicker the pits of despair
open all around me
waiting for me to stumble
and fall into their never land.
Forcing myself to carry on
is an arduous journey to take on my own.
There is no outstretched hand
to usher me through the pitfalls,
just ones wanting me to stumble and fail.
A plundered life is no life
and the plunders know not what they do
only that it must be their way.
At times it feels my lifeblood
being drained from my soul
by those who cannot understand.
Some say I have changed,
they could very well be right
as I am sapped of the things
I have loved
and so my plundered life
loses everything that meant anything
as Death’s fingers get ready
to claw me into its tomb.
15 August 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem