War and Peace

“Some people have it worse than you

You do realize?

Some have been through war,

And returned with a fractured mind.

Some have lost their home, their native land, their life

And persevered, as a people – to survive

On this stage of grief,

Yours isn’t the winning size.

What’s your excuse? To squander your life?

To succumb not to war,

But this conquerable thing, your mind?”

If I had been to war, it would be justified

Forgiven, this fracturing of mind, that’s mine

The journey made, the knots all tied

With the limb – forsaken

The equation – equalized

For without it, I would be crucifed.

For without it, who would believe?

If I said that I have lost

A home, a life, a limb – my mind?

That I have been orphaned,

looked death in the eye each night,

when it returns, and takes

some new daily treasure

I managed to find?

That I have been alone

Loved alone, lost alone,

Even as a child.

That what I even lost

Was never mine?

That I painted colour

Into a drab life

With an open eye and a firm hand

But now, nothing survives -

The hand is lax, the paint has faded,

Even its memory has died.

So now limbless, I walk

Up the hill, with my rock,

And a silent mind.

If I showed you, I’d be crucified

So yes, I am a coward,

And have squandered my life – for nothing.

But I assure you, everything is fine

Indeed, the mind is conquerable

For somehow, poetry has found me

So each day – I’ll write

My last poem

and with its strength – survive.