14d • Writting from Emotion
The weight of their wishes
I don’t know why I can’t do anything,
my spirit like a fog,
drifting through days,
where millions of emotions collide,
a tempest within,
crying, screaming, yet silent,
the world sees only a shadow,
a figure of unending stillness.
Each dawn breaks
with a flicker of hope,
a fragile whisper nudging me,
reminding me of things I long to do
for my parents,
the weight of their dreams
resting upon my weary shoulders,
like an unyielding stone.
And yet, I step into the abyss,
numbness enveloping me,
as if I’m wading through
a river of lost opportunities,
my heart pounding
against the cage of despair,
longing to soar, but tethered.
The echoes of my insides
play a symphony of turmoil,
those choruses of frustration,
a cacophony of doubt,
where hope gleams bright
only to shatter
like glass kissed by a heavy hand,
shards glittering cruelly
in the promise of a better tomorrow.
Oh, how I beg for strength,
to fight this battle within,
the duel of light and dark,
to silence the voices
that drown my will,
to focus my heart
on one noble cause,
an anchor in this storm.
I want to pour my love
like rain over parched earth,
to see their smiles bloom
as flowers awaken after the frost,
to wrap my arms around them,
filled with the warmth of purpose,
to be their fortress in a world
that often feels too cold.
But every step feels heavy,
like trudging through quicksand,
tangled thoughts pull me under,
and I gasp for breath,
searching the horizon
for a sign, a light,
something to cling to
when the nights grow long
and shadows threaten to consume.
I wish to be the sun,
breaking through the clouds,
shining down on their weary faces,
lifting their burdens
with the softness of my heart,
to whisper softly,
“I see you, I love you,
I am here. ”
But these chains of doubt,
they grip me tight;
I feel them gnaw,
tearing at the edges of my resolve,
and each time I gather strength,
they pull me back,
reminding me of all
I have yet to become.
Oh, kind universe,
bring me clarity,
help me to channel
this flood of emotion,
to carve from the chaos
a singular focus,
to pour my soul into the love
that defines us,
to rise from the ashes
of my own despair.
Let me break free,
transform despair
into a mosaic of gratitude,
to hold their hands with purpose,
to fight, not just for myself,
but for the ones
who gave me roots and wings,
who filled my life with warmth,
while I learn to rise
through the endless cycles,
to embrace each day anew,
one step closer
to being the light
they see when they look at me.
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The weight of their wishes
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Art of Poetry craft truth into rhythm. Find your voice, master imagery and form, write bravely, revise sharply, and turn life into lines that last.
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