The Great Escape Poem by Valsa George
The Great Escape
Left alone in a dreary mood,
With none to lean on and look for,
She tethered her soul to sordid gloom,
And chained her fancy, never letting to soar.
Dull were the days and sore were the nights,
Time slouched on in mechanical beats,
Mind devoid of any buoyant thoughts,
Senses shut to every cheery throb of life,
She lay awake, staring on the ceiling above,
Her eyes so lost in a fixed stare,
Never a smile alighted her stony face,
Nor a gleam of hope brightened up her brain.
Inertia crept over from head to foot.
She had long lost her zest for life,
With life saps drained out like an empty well,
She felt nothing but the heat of scorching drought.
Nothing could move her grief laden soul,
None could lift the weight off her back,
Embers of fire sparked from the anvil of her heart,
Heaves of sighs escaped from her parched mouth,
She wriggled and writhed in unspeakable pain,
Her spirits sank deeper into a slithery marsh,
She saw around only a thick pall of gloom,
Or was it a projection of her own self?
Anguish gnawed her nerves and sinews,
Flames of pain danced within her spine,
She felt her head beginning to reel,
And the heavy weight of lead all around her neck.
She felt being pushed down to abysmal depths,
And the octopus tightening its tentacles all around.
Who on earth will set me free?
What on earth can lift me up?
With thundering force the question shook her weary self.
She sprang to her feet and broke loose her chains,
She found she was but in self - exile,
A captive entrapped within boundless space.
She saw the door opening to infinite lengths,
And the arched horizon looming larger than life,
She spread her wings and propelled up,
And darted through the clouds to distant shores.
Beautiful mama, can feel the pain in my nerves...for I too started writing poems only in 2012, after an accident i met with in Ooty, where I was thrown off my bike by an Innova from back. It was my Baba who had saved me by stopping me when I hit against a rock on my head, or else I would have rolled down the hills. Beautiful mam, for I have been in your shoes...thanks for sharing mam. Enjoyed reading it mam.
Your first poem, a very special expression of a part of your life. When I was young, I spent some time in a hospital bed (my poem My White Room) . I thought I had some bad days, and I was a very depressed child. Since then I have seen, and heard, what bad days really are. Your poem expresses such pain, such bad days. I am very glad you are doing better now. There are many great images in this poem (some bring back some of my old memories) . I like this line: 'Embers of fire sparked from the anvil of her heart' Where there is a spark, there is life, and hope for the future. And: 'She spread her wings and propelled up, And darted through the clouds to distant shores. ' Surviving, and rising from the bad days. Thank you for sharing your experience, very inspirational.
Such a powerful poem. I hope others can escape this torment.
I saw note of this poem in your PH bio today, and i saw i already commented years ago. i reread and enjoyed it again today. i'm glad you " darted through the clouds to distant shores" and landed in Poetry Land and on PH. today i've tried to send to MyPoemList; i'm not sure if i succeeded. bri :)
She saw the door opening to infinite lengths, And the arched horizon looming larger than life, She spread her wings and propelled up, And darted through the clouds to distant shores.......so touching and impressive. A beautiful poem so nicely executed.
Valsa, again thanks so much for this poem. As I say, among my very favourites. I think I understand your intense bond to this work. This work also is, for me, relatable. I think when we can use creativity to lift us out of a severe state, that bond between writer and work is forged. It is also that first sign of healing. And being able to communicate what we may believe no one else experiences or understands is also a major step. It really is amazing how much inspiration comes from difficulty.
Valsa, this is a magnificent poem. I am not sure if you are talking about physical or emotional (or both) pain, but there is something so relatable here. It is at that moment of first physical trauma, when the psyche cannot relate, that the feeling of despair sets in. Forced inertia follows. In time, the psyche takes the lead and that is the first step to the flight that you describe. It is also a first sign of real physical healing. Magnificent work- -to myfavourites.
I had indeed fallen into a kind of deep depression followed by an inertia! However this poem has been a turning point in my life.Thank you once again for your insightful evaluation of this poem
Thanks a lot Lemon! I am so happy that you plan to include this poem in the list of your favorites! I have an exceptional emotional bonding to this poem, being my first and the one expressing my physical and emotional pain at the time and at the end led to a saving realization that I could escape my pathetic condition.!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 11:46:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I'm so glad you escaped your gloom and spread your wings upwards. Depression is often a mind's way of saying things have to change. Thank goodness you were imaginative and brave enough to make those changes. Your poems and comments have added light to my day and energy to my wings on many occasions.