Weighed down by an unwholesome oppressiveness, the scales tip evermore
toward those exhausting encumbrances
as I travel this backbreaking journey across
the barren landscape of my being.
Bittersome and tiresome as it is, I choose
to push forward, reluctant to look back at
the sorrow and regret my being has painfully
purchased at every pathetic pitstop along the
way.
The journey replete with dead-ends, potholes
and u-turns on roads ravaged by desperation, remorsefulness and uncertainty stirs my slaphappy soul to move ahead mercilessly.
Along this harsh terrain, this hostile terrain
treacherous tumbleweed stonewalls my
path to salvation as unmitigated guilt conspires
to shred apart, to rip away the remnants of the hopefulness that yet enclothe me.
My being, a wayfarer on a crooked road
where stone cold truths are disdainfully kicked
aside to lay wasting away in the grubby
gutters, where candid convictions are tossed
upon the dirty dung heaps altogether
attracting that fly on the wall.
Yet, I tread along, my dusty boots now ankle-
deep from the dung I just stepped in, my
bootprints embodying my resilience, or
perhaps pigheadedness, or perhaps both.
Still, my ill-fated journey continues as I trudge
ever foward with unflinching determination
along those abandoned roads, those ruptured
roads that extend over the widespread
wastelands of being with the hopefulness
that my shaky redemption lies just beyond
the nearest rocky ascent.
🙄
©dead_poet
D