2014, one of the most memorable years of my life. My world literally turned upside down and there wasn’t a way for me to turn it up again, even if I had had the strength. I suddenly didn’t know how I got where I was, and every single breath I took stabbed my chest. I cried endless tears; I don’t know how I actually never got to go totally insane. And then, I considered that it would be easier if I did go insane. I didn’t but, I grew an alternative feeling. I wanted to die. For real. Life meant nothing to me and I sat outside late after midnight for some nights waiting for something – a snake, thieves – to come and end my life for good. At some point, I even thought of rat poison.
It was around that time – the time I couldn’t really tell anyone how I felt, or say it out loud – when I took a pen and started writing. I had never written anything before. I didn’t want people to understand what was going on, just in case anyone found my note book. So, I drew a picture of my situation and my exact feelings. It’s the first poem I ever wrote; first time I ever wrote a thing. Since then, I found a sanctuary in writing. Below is the poem I wrote:
THE CRY OF A DEATH MANIAC
Eating is great for those who are hungry;
Drinking is pleasant for the thirsty;
Romance is enjoyable between a man and a woman;
Far away in otherworld of thoughts by the magic of songs;
Driven unconsciously by the rhythm of swift dancing.
Life is boring;
The world’s not fair;
Stomachs are never full;
Light is here and in 300 miles away there is darkness;
Animals are more friendly then men.
Death is the end of life;
Death is a peaceful place;
Death is a resting bed;
Death is the uselessness of the body;
Death is the refugee camp for the fatigued.
The future was supposed to be good;
The future is frightening;
The future feels like a terrific hell;
The future is a cave of screams;
The future is the misery of a lonely depressed flightless bird in the sky.
Failed to stay in the Father’s house;
There was pure joy but no pleasure;
Wandering or living under no one’s control;
Caught unexpectedly in a net like a fish;
To end up destroying thyself to please somebody else.
Forced to live on Mars when the heart wanted to be on Earth;
Dissuaded from studying science when the mind was able to;
Coaxed into eating fruits when the stomach was craving for vegetables;
Convinced to wear perfume when deodorant was more effective;
Cajoled to drink coffee when tea was much better.
No freedom in the width of the Earth;
No freedom in the slimness of the throat;
No freedom in the pokey house of the lungs;
No freedom in a small yard of flowers;
No freedom, not even in the space of training grounds.
A gun was the easiest but uneasy to get;
Snakes and poisons can be used but tough to find in cities;
Assassins are there but hard to afford;
Knives are themselves difficult to use;
So surprising what a challenge suicide can be!
The loneliness of the heart is a cold wind in planet’s core;
The wetness of the eyes is an overfilled ocean;
The cry from the mouth is silenced by air;
The wretched arms shake as if attacked by earthquake;
The legs too are numb, inside the cave.
The heart is covered by snow;
The heart is in a foreign country;
The heart is surrounded by strangers;
It is trembling by the chill in the cave;
The heart is the only butterfly at dusk.
They are flowing out of my eyes;
They run down like a leopard after prey;
They rain in a zone of cursed yard;
They are blood flowing out nonstop just like nonstop mensturation;
Tears now overfill the oceans.
It murmurs its burden quietly;
It cannot cry out loud in a fortress of strangers;
It cries with a quiet sound till it can do no more;
It tells its sadness to the air;
The mouth narrates its misfotune to the wildness.
The arms are overworking;
They do not rest;
They ain’t even allowed to do their will;
They are shaking from tiredness;
They are about to break because of the load.
They walk without halting;
They run nonstop;
They jump without ceasing;
They dance without desisting for break;
Legs are slaves for people’s pleasure.
In the Father’s house, unforgettable moments;
The Father shows his love for me;
He wipes away my tears;
He stands by me all the time;
He doesn’t sleep to keep me secured.
I am sheltered under his peaceful wings;
I am surrounded by his love, mercy and grace;
I am guided by his shining light;
I am amazed by the beauty of his mysterious soul;
I am proud to be his servant.
The end of the poem portrays a happy ending. I wrote it like that not because the suffering was over, but because then, a little part of me believed in happy endings. More importantly however; the last 2 verses are the reflections of my life before my world turned upside down. I wished to have that life again.