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Life like hell

I guess I love the feeling of hope; It is not much but, it is not afraid to stick its head out.

By Edward Banele ThelaPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read

I wish I knew you better...

I wish I knew

Your deepest thoughts

And your wildest desires.

I wish I could

See the pictures

You’ve painted

Deep inside your mind.

I wish I could dye

The faded images

And highlight the mysteries,

But I am no mind reader -

I am no prophet,

Yet I can feel the pain

You hide with pride and dignity.

I can see it screaming out

From the shadows

Of your deepest despair.

Though you stand

Strong and tall

I can notice you emotional erosion.

I can see the decaying love

And the detachment

From this brutal society,

And the mental misery.

How merciless are we?

We let you feed your insecurities.

We watched in admiration

When they broke

What was left

Of your self-esteem.

We looked at your corpse

Still breathing mildly,

While your soul

Was being extracted

From your arteries.

Your shack of self

Dishonored by dishonesty,

And we gazed upon your misery

While you died deep inside.

Your windpipes cut off

Bit by bit each day and night...

Please hold my hand.

I am not your hero though;

I am not strong enough,

But I’ll be your friend

And with rags and broken dreams

Perhaps we can suffer together.

We will both be broken souls

In a broken world

Full of fear and ugly demons.

We will find our way through...

Through this life like hell.

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    Written by Edward Banele Thela