Intoxicated by Guilt

 

Lost underneath the veil of darkness,

Drunk from sorrow bottled up for ages inside me,

Fated in loneliness,

Guilty of losing what I cherished most.

I longed for being someone else’s anchor in the stormy sea,

I longed for being someone else’s fundament,

I longed for being someone else’s morning or solace,

I longed for being someone else’s sun in a cloudy day.

…

Yet the dawn was never mine, the sunset is kissing the tired eyes

I scream under the moonlight like a hurt wolf.

She drives me crazy, calling silently my name,

She forces me to give up my dreams and follow the pack instinct,

Compelling me to turn into wild animal – unleashed.

…

Lost underneath the veil of the darkness I am still drunk,

Eyes lying me as if the morning will ever come,

Fight my battles – yet alone,

I am so wasted, unable to connect,

Fulfilling foreign dreams in not for me

Even though I wished to be drained from the rain of beloved laughter.

…

Lost underneath the veil of the darkness I am insanely intoxicated,

Still unable to sober up.

But it’s not the alcohol circulating in my blood stream like an oil in the old machine,

It’s the guilt eating me alive, like a ghost my mistakes haunt me,

Wrong decisions made when I was young.

My intoxication took control and buried me beneath the locked emotions,

My consciousness refuses to acknowledge the growth I’ve had – eternal punishment.

…

Lost underneath the veil of the darkness I am ultimately juiced,

A drunkhead with no hopes and dreams,

The liquid courage now poisoned me - weakness, unforgiven sins.

I refuse to become clear-headed, this world was never meant to me,

I prefer to dim my light, be invisible, an outcast, cold-hearted.

And yet the numbness starts fade away, I am not ready to face myself -

I just need another glass.

The Sound of My Undoing

Reflection unknown is looking at me through the mirror –

Half lively, half dead.

Is this what I have become?

Life transferred from someone else – not mine.

I bent my head, neck arched like a black swan,

Still unfamiliar with the staring gaze –

Is this the best of what I can?

I have completely forgotten my mission in life,

I have suppressed my desires for someone.

Why did I make that fatal choice?

Was it worth the sacrifices when I am unrecognizable?

I keep staring at the mirror – so unsurprisingly distant.

I can’t remember which decision turned me into that stone.

What have I done?

…

Eyes empty – sparkles lost ages ago,

I kept lying to myself that everything will be fine.

Mouth shut – voice stolen no one knows when

When my opinion stopped being cherished,

I chose silence instead of the scream I wanted to let loose.

I keep looking this face – ghost pale, looks like death.

Why did I settle on life which was never meant for me?

I see eyes soulless – as empty as barren ground

A reflection of life lived wrong.

I lost the sharpness of the mind once I had,

I keep looking but something is missing – my spirit is gone.

My soul turned into ashes spread through the world once bright,

Desires buried beneath the blanket of fear that I can never make it,

Venomous whispers of “friends” held dear, now empty chairs on my table called life.

I keep seeking, I keep trying to remember – still nothing,

What is wrong with me?

…

Finally, I broke the silent song of my undoing with the painful scream of my rebirth,

The mirror shattered and in every little piece I start to see me again.

Fragments of my soul is shinning through the looking glass on the floor beneath my feet.

Each cut on my hand a reminder – I have sacrificed enough

The ghost in front of me is no longer mine, I will keep it in the past.

I will blur it, I can breathe at last.

I have gathered the broken pieces of my soul when all was said and done,

Free of whispers and fears installed in me by their projections,

I let the pain of losing myself engulf me,

In the end I can start over – no one is putting their shapes onto me.

My song will be angry in sounds, destruction in my lyrics,

And ugly truth in every note I sing.

Let the water in my voice drawn what once confined me

And from the ruins of my silence to be once more whole.

 

For Those Who Remain

Raise your glass to the Seeker, the curious one

Always looking for new adventures to spice up their existence

With unquenching thirst for new sensations

Never leaves stones unturned until the curiosity lives within.

Raise your glass to the Risk-taker,

The one who is brave to face fears and manages to win.

Even they lose the passion burns unstoppably until they prove themselves right or wrong.

Chasing the thrill of the unknown until their last breath goes out of their lungs.

Raise your glass to the Believer, the one who has undying faith even when the days are darker,

Even when the nights are cold, they keep going.

No matter how hopeless is the situation they’ve learnt to keep believing

As long as they stay true what their heart dictates them – ultimate belief in higher powers,

Confidence unmeasurable, strong will.

Raise your glass to the Builder – the one who is not afraid to turn the ashes into lush gardens,

The one skilled with hands and manner, language and presence.

The one taking the most impossible projects turning them from dreams into reality.

The one who is not afraid from the dirt on their hands, from the filth in their minds

As long as they keep creating what they deem worthy of developing.

Raise your glass to the Truth-finder – the one who never lives into the mist of what the others think is appropriate.

Their hunger for truth keeps them going into the vastness of the untold,

Their passion for transparency moves them to the boundlessness of what was never revealed.

Their longing for uncovering what lays hidden is dangerous yet captivating to be followed –

Like a play in the theater masks are falling – ugly truths on display, angry mobs tailing.

Their courage is tremendous, deserving recognition in the fake world we are currently live in.

Raise your glass to the Thriver – the one who stands still even through the harshest storms,

The one who turns each scar into a valuable lesson,

Making each loss into an art of who be reborn stronger than before.

The one who never claims they are broken even though every pain paints on their mind and body.

They do not seek for easiness but seek the deeper meaning

And in every ending they still manage to find a chance be better.

Their compass is called hope, the resilience is their form of art

And in silence they sing the song of patience.

They dance together with the chaos, maniacally laughing at the uneven odds,

They knowing endurance can make them last this long.

…

And with this poem my trilogy of remembrance of those who stay hidden comes to an end.

It was my pleasure to shed a light on all of you who are often left unspoken

As if your stories do not worth telling.

I raise the glass to those I may have forgotten, it was never meant to be.

I salute your strongest features, being true to yourselves in world where noise is the currency of choice.

May your inner strength quietly echo longer than the loudest pretenders try do.

To the unseen, the loyal, the unapologetically real – my final toast is to you.