For me, life is a battle.
It's a unimaginable reality each and every day.
I attempt to comprehend, endeavor to open the mysteries,
To unwind the puzzle.
I scan for importance, for purposes for everything,
In any case, I continue lurching.
I continue hitting block dividers.
It resembles going in hovers, pursuing something,
With no start by any means.
However, there must be a reason.
I can't exactly portray the way I generally feel,
However, I know I'm not upbeat,
However I'm not precisely miserable either.
I don't feel like I'm living,
However, I don't feel dead either.
I fear my reality,
Be that as it may, I keep going.
It resembles I'm gotten in a muddle of feelings,
Encompassed in vacancy and perplexity.
I've learned
Unexpressed feelings never bite the dust.
They might be covered alive,
Be that as it may, later
They will approach in uglier ways.
So maybe,
After such huge numbers of years of fruitful oppression,
I've achieved that point
Where all the concealment has loosened up.
It has all been released,
Constrained out in franticness,
Making a tempest of seething feelings.
Also, I am presently left to bargain
With an interminable stream
Of tireless disturbance.
