THE FIGHT

I’m in a losing battle and from the ashes of  fire, the spirit of fighting is leaving me and all that is left is the broken pieces of shattered glass and every time I touch them all they do is make me bleed a lot more.

Where is the warrior in me?

Where is my shield when I need it?

Where is my armor to protect me?

Where is my spark of fire to keep me going?

The struggle to stay afloat in a capsizing ship is getting to me and I no longer want to fight. I want to give in and let the waves carry me to my doom. I want to let go and drown to the depths of the ocean of my frustrations and disappointments.

Where is a shoulder to lean on when I need one?

Where is my hero when I’m crying for one?

Where is my shinning star in my dark night?

Where is my muse when I’m calling for one?

I want to let go and give in to the negativity and darkness. The sorrow in me is way stronger than the hope I seek. My faith has dwindled away and all that is left is empty shells of despair and pain.

Where is my sword when I want to take a stab at my destiny?

Where is my voice when I want to speak out?

Where is my arrow when I want to cast it into my soul?

Where is my ray of sunlight across my gloomy sky?

The pain I feel numbs every form of emotion and feeling I ever had. My intention to always seek optimism and faith has crumbled in the darkness that has overshadowed my light. The future that I once saw as bright is now more and more becoming bleak with each passing day.

Where is my rainbow when I desperately yearn for it?

Where is my lens when I need to magnify my vision?

Where is my serenity when I truly need it?

Where is my hook so that I can hang on?

The pursuit to happiness has now become the pursuit to sorrow. I no longer want to keep going. All I want is to surrender to the madness and get by because the journey is becoming too unbearable. I no longer want to run, walk or crawl, all I want to do is sit in anguish and misery.

Where is my dawn when I’m anxiously seeking it?

Where is my glue when I need to be held together?

Where is my pillar when I’m begging for support?

Where is my rock when I’m struggling to stand up?

BUT I KEEP REMINDING MYSELF THAT;

The hammer that shatters glass also forges steel,

The rain that channels creation also at times destroys it,

The hand that catches you when you fall can also let you die,

The pen that is used to shape destinies can also be used to crumble empires.

By Eva Mwangi.

2 Replies to “THE FIGHT”

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