Crawling Forward Poem by Murtada Alsaadi

I left an empty page to see
To remind me of what used to be
A beacon of sort, for me to find
The only one that I left behind
Before it one finds a spew of love
The kind that lifts the soul above
And after, nothing but empty scorn
The kind that resembles a heart that's torn

But today I hurry to fill this page
With anything from love, to non, to rage
Proving to myself of what I have become
With thoughts as precise as a pendulum
No contemplation of what lies ahead
Even if it ends with roses or lead
The only fact that matters most
Is that I'm not haunted by your memory, nor your ghost

Now that this page is almost full
Im racing to the finish, charging like a bull
Not thinking of anything except the end
No more sleepless nights, no more heart to lend
Being liberated from the prison of hurt
As if being reborn from one's bed of dirt
Ah, the feeling, the freedom, the bliss
As if my lips met yours in a perfect kiss