Sorrow
If there's sorrow in every breath you takeIf there's moaning in your every speech
If there's despair coursing through your veins
If there's slavery the leaders preach
What creates this compulsion of existence?
What debt is being repaid by your nightly tears?
Which ritualistic sacrifice are you a part of?
What shadows lurk in the night of your extended demise?
Is it a friend that pushes you or a foe that protects?
Or empathic family members or selfish colleagues?
Is living the ultimate prison for the weak?
And death the only solution, the only release?
For whose advantage do you kill your dreams?
For which conveniences do you pierce your heart?
Perhaps for the benefit of the people you hate,
Your letting go too is and act of a coward
Can you still call it a heart after 30 years?
Which has not blood but tar coursing through
Where life has lost its light thoroughly,
Where nothing flows anymore, except life's drudgeries
Who benefits from your death? Who benefits from your life?
Who casts upon the world their presence with a light?
Can the shock of happiness, of altruistic tendencies
truly re-start a dead heart from a dead dream?
Perhaps we choose this prison, to see how the story ends
Perhaps we chose this voyage, to see how the river bends
Perhaps we need the chaos and hate, to truly love see peace and calm
Perhaps life needs to inflict wounds, for death to be its balm
Poetry by Jalaj Soni
Written on 2025-09-14 at 07:23
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