Fragment 39 I wish I could reach that wisdom of not wanting death Of loving life for what it is and will be But I have only reached a promise, a compromise, a vow With myself and as we all do know now All these are such brittle, hollow words: A China jar of hope and a clay pot of love Will I be able to keep the single promise I ever made myself? Will I escape this tearing frenzy of rage And the gloomy darkness of the soul Where they both combine to evoke The strangest of demons in me That tempt me to death, to the gates of hell? Where I can take up arms against my god And trample him under my feet To then kill me all by myself. No, no I am not angry. I am sleepy and frustrated. No, no I am not myself. But I am neither someone else. Let me die before I reach the wisdom that Each lifes ultimate aim is death. (Inspired by Ampat Koshys poem I am not Hamlet.)
Posted on: Sat, 10 May 2014 09:19:36 +0000
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