in a concrete box that you once called home
with nobody there, in silence, lights gone
you start to question “why am i, what for”
in a concrete box with no windows or doors.
You think you’ll never sleep again or smile,
your heart is now forever in exile.
you search for answers trying to grasp air,
the reminiscence of what seems was never there
among the memories that might as well be dreams,
you wonder if anything is what it seems.
you feel cold, out of nowhere comes a gust of wind
“breathe of fresh air” you hope
is there a crack in the concrete?
your lungs expand, you open your eyes wide
you clench your fists
a chance no fight or flight
Then wind sweeps you off of your feet
you fall,
your body feels the chill of concrete floor
you can taste blood though you're not bleeding
your faith is running low, your hope receding.
yet you find strength and pull yourself back up
you swallow, you are ready to attack.
you wonder “surely, this is not the end.
for suffering, for pain i am not meant”.
another gust of wind starts to build up
tears fill your eyes “please dont be a setback”
you whisper under your breath and you let it
lift yourself high so you can see the room
black and grey space, a prison cell of doom.
and suddenly like fog, the wind dissolves.
just as it came from nowhere, there it goes.
and you fall harder, breaking all your bones.
now you see it, you can smell your blood
you feel defeated, deafened by the thud
of your own body slammed against the floor
you cry “no more, i beg, no more”.
I cannot get through yet another storm;
I have no faith, no will, no sails and no brawn.
I am no longer me - just a faint shadow
of what i could have been but i am shattered.
then out of darkness, from where the winds came
hot puff of air, warm spirit of good days
wraps arms around your shoulders, helps you up
it gently places you back on your feet and stops.
it penetrates your soul and calms your mind
it’s soft, it’s lovable, its kind.
it dries your tears and you can see
alas, there is a door in front of me.