I envy the man that finds sanctuary in rest,
as to me this is an impossibility.
For when I close my eyes,
the darkness exposes the truths
that I hide during the day.
For my nights expose uncertainty,
my mind brings in hidden thoughts
that I thought were tucked away
behind mental lock and key.
My mind reels of doubt,
while tendrils of suffering wrap their
stems leaving a shroud of haze.
The depressing black uncovers the truth,
the fact that I can’t escape.
Sometimes, the pain gives way
exposing and ripping itself inwards
unveiling a calm picture,
that of a portrait painted surreal.
I fight to believe that a self portrait
is one of which I can find peace in.
As I look closer, I see what I know
that the calm is an illusion.
Dreams unveil the most haunting visions
too real to escape, too close to home
my dreams serve as not a sanctuary
but as a secluded asylum with
nothing to learn, no appeal.
My envy of your tranquil dreams
mutates into obsession.
I yearn for escape, I yearn for peace
But it’s not within my reach.
For I am trapped inside myself
caged in my own trap, constructed
with doubts, prisoner of my own mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
prisoner of my own mind, good write, thanks.