Hasan Haskovic

Rookie - 265 Points (30.12.1997 / Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina)

Brittle, Brittle Mind - Poem by Hasan Haskovic

Once I thought that the quill in my hand was a key
A key that would help me set free the unhappiness that stems in my heart
The miracle sacred tool that would give me a chance
For my thoughts and my emotions to be set apart

The ink darker than the darkest of nights
Recorded my calls, my fears, my hatred,
Witnessed the way I held the most pointless of fights
Against the Truth, the Wonder, the Sacred.

But I never got over the first page
Never got over how it all started
Maybe it's because I myself never understood
How it began to unfold
Why is it so
When will it end
And all the other truths that I can't bend
Have bent me

So tell me now
Is there sense in my words?
Does this tattered page
Bear anything else than hurt?
Is it not like my soul
Crumpled and darkened by the truth?
I don't want to write anymore
I don't want for the pain to replay
I want to live in harmony dictated by the light of day
But I know that day will never be here
And lest I am to break
I must write it down
I must let it go
At least it comforts me that even without my wake
This page will remain in your hands
That my soul will have somewhere to turn
And recognize itself in a form simply more firm:
Every word a scar
The ink black as lies
Every sentence void of meaning
If you leave out the message of the curses and the cries
This page completes me
And I complete it
On our own we speak not
Subordinate to the pain
But together we have meaning
As I read out the words
Of how I lived
And how I was maimed

Never been closer to the darkness above
To the sea of ponderous thoughts
Never reached for the moon with this much temptation
As I thought of the bleak days
The days before the world ended
Before I had begun
Before thoughts was worry
Replacement for fun

Atop this Tower of Vigil
I saw no shining stars
But simply another tessellation
Of opened scars
They say the further you are
The more you see
But this night the sky was a mirror
A reflection of me
Deep, deep, ponderous thoughts
Assigned to every star, every line
Every tear, all the time
Too much to bear for this
Brittle, brittle mind

When the color black
Is the only thing in your eyes
Sometimes it's just better to close them
And watch how light slowly forms, darkness dies
Beneath your eyelids
But oh, I am so dearly afraid
Of the darkness that follows
When my lids are shut
As I enter the darkness that swallows
Afraid of the message hidden beneath
Afraid of the picture attached to the skin
The view I saw from the Tower
The Tower of Vigil
The truth
Too much to bear for this
Brittle, brittle mind

Still there is so much to learn
From people that you though you never knew
The ones who shield their wisdom with a smile
Who enjoy the light of day and still swim in thoughts most vile
One of them said:
'My friend, nothing is a lie
Until you are told otherwise.'
But Gods never seems to stop
Changing the direction
Of the truth
Does he simply want to question the strength
Of a Youth?
Deep, deep, ponderous thoughts
Assigned to every star, every line
Every tear, all the time
Too much to bear for this
Brittle, brittle mind

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, November 16, 2013

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