Sunday, 21 April 2013

no free will of their own

Free will
The choice between
Right and wrong
Seated there
In black and white.

The whole essence
Of what makes us human
All that defines us
Placed in two small words.

We choose to be
Who we are.

But what if it was taken
From me?

Picked at
Worn away
Ever so slightly
With each passing day.

And nights
Which were meant to be filled
With steadying dreams
Descended to the depth
Of hell
With me on her back
Carried like a child
Afraid to call out.

I never wanted a fuss.

We closed our eyes
We sealed our lips
It became enough to get through
The days.

And in the mist
Me, vacant
An empty vessel
Waiting to be filled
With lies she cultivated in grace
Her certainty ingrained
Into my living thoughts
Leaving no room for me
Or free will.

But without
I am less than human
And walk alone.

No comments:

Post a Comment