In the webs of my past
I roam imprisoned,
Bound in chains of unbelief and unreason.
In my inactions and inertia,trapped.
Tormenting my soul,with its laughter crude,
Pain rules,A warden brute.

I will sing of this pain
Like a titled mourner’s hymn,
Even though in vain.
I will curse its searing sting,
That has thrust my beign
Into willows of epileptic throes
And crippling athritic woes.

This pain gloats and grows,
Though hard i try to drown it,
In bottles of intoxicating spirits.
Its venom like a strong tide flows,
Spilling forth rivulets of insidious shings.

8 thoughts on “Pains” by Anda Damisa Lazywrita (@Anderson-paul)

  1. Good poem. The last stanza’s quite good too. Message wasn’t too clear for me though. Good stuff generally.

    1. wasnt really trying to convey a message,was just expressing PAINS in my own way.
      thanks anyway.

  2. Got the message very clearly Paul, well done. You were able to express the pain of a regretted past, Your choice of words reveal its depth: “inertia, trapped, laughter crude, warden brute, searing sting, willows of epileptic throes and crippling athritic woes.” Wow. It works so deep even alchohol can’t numb it. This is searing pain. Good job.

    1. thank you Abby,it was what i kinda felt a long time ago,never again though.

      1. I sure hope so. Pain like this can make one bitter.

        1. yea,real bitter.
          it mostly happens when one is hopeless.
          its a terrible thing one should never experience.

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