Tired

On the road,
in a class
At the door
walking past;
There are faces
I yearn to know
I need to meet
But cannot reach.

The inability to express
The inability to shout
The inability to scream
A prisoner to doubt.

I cannot say what binds me so.
I am happy with a moment or two
of anger. To get me by.
I do not have the energy any longer
to fight.

I have fought and I have won,
and what have I gained,
but fire in my belly
and fire in my heart.

All the steam is rising
from the lake of my dissension.
I long to rest,
and feel the softness
of a kindred face-
To touch the wounds
of a blundering soul.
Someone to forgive
the crimes of angry nights,
And tell tales of struggles past
and overcome.

The fire still burns-
the embers low
The coals still glowing
with hungry heat.
I slave to cast away the fuel
Of my anger, and my wrath
For its hunger eats me up
Sucks the vigor from my limbs.

I sleep, and in dreams I see
Strangers that I love
and strangers that love me.
They say love is a decision
But I cannot afford to hate.

Lest it darken coming nights
Harden the sunset, once so bright
Turn the working hands to stone
Turn a life to brittle bone.
No one can afford to hate.

The sun is gone
The stars awake
The dreams begin
I lie awake.
No will to fight
A hopeless night…
What is there to do
but love, and wait?

Priyanka
24 October 2009