- Books, Literature, and Writing
Torn Apart in a Shipwreck Battlefield
Out of the blood of a shipwreck I have been pulled apart
Shards discovered on the beach like pieces of armor beaten and bent.
I am broken by the bullets and words, the thoughts and the knives…
i search for a fire now, to bond the courage with the fear.
They came in the guise of saviors meant to heal and mend,
Yet when they found me, they were terrified by my edges and my rage.
Unnerved by my brokenness, they placed me in two cages…
Labeled one as right, one as wrong.
They placed one in the light on a pedestal of shifting sand,
It was tame and touchable, safe and cultivated.
The other half they placed in shadows,
Hidden, it cried for loss of truth, fiercly torn and empty.
Screaming out for my that half of me, enraged by this condemnation,
Knowing that my heart was not brave enough without my soul…
What weapons can decide my fate and change my fearless ways?
Who decides where I tear, and where I grow in strength?
You hoards of watchers, judges; take another look.
Even under your gaze, I weld myself together again, even stronger than before.
See the two halves that make me whole, the sadness and the joy...
Though shipwrecked, I was not fearful, though torn I was not destroyed.