Accepting Desolation

If the animal I am

were all I ever was

then I’d be comforted

by the smallest of

things, and my worries

would evaporate at

the stroke of my ear.


Instead I take shelter

from more than just

the wind, myself,

other people, this

place could be silent.


My grave, a foreign

home, death is my master

and I a disloyal slave.

11 replies on “Accepting Desolation”

Some people are not able to have that type of connection. i have always admired beautiful meaningful writing and poems that express inner demons. it is another way to speak for not only yourself but others who are unable to say it in such a way. ignore the thoughts of other’s.

I’ve been told that some of my poems have done the opposite for people which I think is too easy. I was in a beautiful and barren environment in County Clare when I wrote this, and I would never be able to explain through prose what I felt that day.

This is a wonderful post that has actually spoken to not only my heart but my soul in my current state of mind. i was on the verge of allowing death to take me by will but I am slowly finding the strength to endure my journey to the end because death is not a option for me.

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