In Verse

31. I KEPT FLOATING

The only thing that I could see,
was water all around me.
No land in sight,
no way to escape the tide.

My boat didn't make
much difference either,
it kept lurching to
one side or the other.

Every now and then I thought
this was it,
now is when the ocean will
engulf me within.

Thought, this is where
no one will ever find me,
Or ask "How you've been?"

But I quite never made it to death.

On the nth day of my wander
a vulture dropped for me
a bag of dismay,
thought that the almighty above
has sent for me a way.

That bag was repulsive and violating.

I let my hand dig in, thinking,
I might find some piece of clothing.
To keep me warm from the
coldness that surrounds,
and the water tides that
keep coming around.

But nothing came out,
I dig in deeper,
yet came no sound.

That bag started perverting, degrading and demeaning.
Started smelling foul and atrocious.

Before I even knew
I kicked it out,
not thinking that it might
contaminate the ocean around.

My boat was never stable,
but at least now
it did not smell rotten like before.

Days passed,
that same vulture came again,
dropping down another bag
full of stains.

It was then when my boat
didn't stumble anymore,
When the cold didn't
crack my skin anymore.
Then, when even the night
didn't haunt me anymore.

That bag had warmth in it,
solace and peace came in along.
Gave me the comfort and heat,
I've always been praying for.

I tried to open the bag but seemed as if the chains were tied quite tight.
I retired, but realised,
it needs some time.

That bag opened
on its own one day.
Delighted? that will just be
another word to say.

But as soon as I dig in,
my hands caught fire.
The logs in my boat started burning
and my skin was slowly degrading.
From the edge of my deaf side,
I could hear some ringing.

The fire was slowly killing me,
but all I could see was
desire in its flame.
Desire to give just the
warmth and not the pain.
Desire to love, to forgive,
nourish and alter the rain.

When the fire went down,
there in the bag
were ashes all around.

Ashes of hurt and betrayal,
of suicide and loneliness.
Felt as if the hate
burned down the happiness.

Not long before I realised,
tinted were my eyes.
Bones were burnt,
my limbs went on a ramping hunt.

My boat added up with
the pile of charred ash
and my whole life was succumbed
around me in a flash.

I hugged the bag tightly
around my bloated coat.
It gave my soaked body,
the strength to float.
I kept lurching forward,
in need to find a change, a shore.

Never did I realise,
change was right behind the fear.
Just one more chain to open,
And we could come out of there.

An ocean of torment and torture.
Woes and throes.

-Azmii•