Pariah Me


Pariah Me

By Tony DeLorger © 2011

Buried in the will of others,

I struggle to breathe clean air.

Like a stone in a torrent tossed,

I can only hope for release,

the stillness of rest.

Like being in a cross-fire of intent,

the world’s quarry I remain,

back and forth in avoidance I parry,

unprepared for the travesty of confusion.

Souls hover like spectres,

vying for life unattainable, out of reach,

within the realms of unacknowledged life,

unchartered and unrecognised.

Answers are never afforded

to those unwilling to accept truth,

the irony of human blindness.

They all hurt my head,

their mental gymnastics and affront,

of havoc cast on sullen days.

It is my will to relinguish their minds,

their justifications and actions bent,

to hold close my ideals,

without the mess of human refuse.

My own company resides in rest,

not lost to indiscriminate lies,

nor the beating of time’s decay.

Just the tranquillity of a mind

in quiet surrender,

the observer,

the master of self, alone.

More by this Author


No comments yet.

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.

    Click to Rate This Article