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Why do I feel so defeated when I have won so many battles?

I don't understand the chaos that results in pressure,

The pressure to be on top, to be the best, to be perfect

But what is this unattainable inhuman trait?

To be perfect is to simply overcome the hate.

I'm lost in this world.

Sinking in sand,

But all I have to do is reach out my hand.

I'm drowning myself in sorrow,

The waters getting so deep.

I look all around me,

But I cant even see my feet.

Why do the good always get screwed?

It doesn't matter how hard I try, I always seem to lose.

I pray life gets easier, but what good is that?

I need to be praying or love, refuge and strength,

So I can continue shining in the world that's asleep.

A whisper never woke a patient in a coma,

Yet I sit here so quietly as if my silent alarm could possibly save us all from some harm.

The truth is the silence is truly my cries,

But why don't I shout out, lift my voice to the skies?

My paralysis is deadly if I succumb to the numb that this world invokes,

So we all think we are dumb.

I know I am worthy to be blessed with his wisdom,

But why would he give it to me, if I'm also stuck in the tomb?

The ultimate death trap, simply for muse.

What good is my voice if locked up within?

I'm just another struggling to overcome this life.

But why such a fight is always in sight?

If only we all loved, laughed, and had no strife,

Then all of us would be shining as bright as his light.

Love can conquer all the pain in this world,

Yet we allow the pain to take over and gain the world.

It’s all an illusion, a practical joke,

To gain the world, is to choke on the smoke.

We all are just pawns pretending to soak up the glory, knowing its already took.

Why in vanity, favour and deceit, we pretend to be something,

But really we are all weak.

May 15th, 2015

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