The Painted Walls Of Destitution Poem by Wolfie God

I stare into the grit of the paint looking for the answers,
All I can trace there is the lies that I lived.
My dreams are adrift in this concrete jungle,
They float away on hints of smog and anger.
When will I see the horizon of trees?
The hue of the sunset on the beaches.
Ideas of a perfect life reside here on the sand,
Letting go of what was wrong.

I wanted to be free along the horizon,
Away from all the hatred that resides here.
What if I can’t let go,
Always a what; if that holds me back.

Should I trade my mind for my soul?
Am I frowning or am I content in madness.
I’m not shielded by the truth of the failure,
Nor do I shy from my pain.
The silence allows my mind to wander away.

Was it me that caused my own life to collapse?
Into a field of mindless ideas and scattered dreams.
The strain pulls me to the edge of reason,
Oh god why aren’t you saving this soul.
Resurrected tortures of the past again haunt me.

I survive on a hope that it all ends,
Eventually it all will stop.
Then and only then will my heart and soul be free,
Free to escape the life that burdens me so.
Freedom holds a tight reign,
In retrospect let me go.
Free at last.