I am in a middle of a war,
Between myself and my sanity,
Between all hate and anxiety,
In a hushed war that hides a scar.

Away from your sniffy grudge,
I have to camouflage,
With a cheerful facade.

Coz' this internal torment can't show,
I can't let them know,
That the one I lovingly married,

Is now the one pointing a gun at my head.

There are wounds
that never appears
  on the skin,

But are deeper
and more excruciating
  than anything that's bleedin'.

Torn between a rational mind
and a heart that's frail and blind.

It doesn't matter,
whether you're weak or stronger.
If you're a mother
your self no longer matter.
Even if you're wounded & broken,
you can't surrender.
You have to get up,
for your dearest son & daughter.

You lift me up,
So you can pull me down,
You sew my crack,
To tear me apart.

I trust you enough,
And disclose my secrets,
But you use it to discredit,
And wound me to shame.

I tell you all my broken dreams,
But you used it as an insult,
For me to lose confidence,
To feel unworthy and useless.

I told you of my grim past,
But you use it as an edge,
To mudsling and bring me,
Such pain & emotional turmoil.

I thought you are my better half,
But your harshness caused me distress,
Your lies bring coldness to my soul,
You never love me, not even once.

All-day sitting on the same old corner,
Unheard, neglected, and taken for granted,
Maybe speaking what was on my head,
Could make you glance at me one sooner.

I cracked a joke hoping to see you laugh,
But you just cringed without glancing at me,
I reckoned humor was not my forte,
I should've not opened my mouth for that bluff.

I spoke of good mem'ries and promises,
But you brushed it off like it's a thing to avoid,
A fleeting scene that was not enjoyed.
And I was left with only misery to caress.

Wasn't speaking the best way of expression?
Weren't my tears a hint of my desperation?
If words were not enough to voice out my depression,
Then can silence be the best option?

So back in my same old corner alone,
Still neglected and taken for granted,
I realized that saying what's on my head,
Was a futile way to get your attention.

Under the veil of my newfound silence
May your old oath with the judge resonates
A spurious word sealed with a ring
But all it brought was suffering.

Thanks for the struggle and pain,
If it weren't for these things,
My knees would never bend for humility,
My head would never look up crying for pity,
And my heart would never yearn for Your presence to reign.


In my weakness, Your strength is made perfect.