- Books, Literature, and Writing
In Question: A Poem
Fire is often brought into the soul
A fire that can not be quenched with liquid pure
Instead it takes a desire that can only be questioned
Is it wrong or right?
Who knows the answer to constant reflection
It is a mystery bound to consume you and me
Until we face our certain fate
Until reality calls for the question at the end of the debate
And we stand looking at each other
Not quite understanding our circumstances
Wondering aloud as we try to make sense of the years
Put together the pieces of that which has been broken
Twisted into something that we can no longer recognize
Until we can not quite decipher truth from fantasy
Can you recognize me?
When you look at my face, who do you see?
Did you intend to build walls around us?
In your zeal to protect you have built a prison
And you, your own prisoner, can not escape
Scale these walls with me; Give me freedom
I must breathe the fresh, crisp air
Fill my lungs with the sweet breath of freedom
And exhale the impurities that have seized my heart
I desire happiness and nothing more
Let me have it I beg of you.
Let me have it and the question that burns your soul
Will finally have an answer.