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Writer's pictureTodd Wolfe

I Strike Through Life



I strike through life looking for

The inception of this dispirited pneuma,

Shallow breaths effecting shallowness,

Dispirited banality ushering comatose mania.


From whence did you come?

Were you ciphered into my helical foundations?

Were you posited by dysfunctional progenitors?

Were you molded under life’s oppression?


Or is this just all my own damn fault!



I strike! Through life I have seemingly found death,

Though still breaths rattle on.

So I cease this disorienting search for reason

And await the commencement of my abolition.


Cord dangling from my soul’s ventilator.

I await its terminal breath.

(Will I even know its expiration?

Its desensitization long fulfilled.)


Silent acquiescence to an uninvited caller.



...



I strikethrough life abandoned to the haze of eternal destinies unknown.

Begone, you bygone of death gone by.

You relic of unrelinquished reliquaries .

I take them all back...by force.


Jamming that damn plug into love’s outlet.

My soul gasps at the Breath of Life,

A long foregone communion,

Now emancipating this emaciated soul.


New eyes blinking through placental blurriness.


I strike! Through life-filled amazonian efforts

I drive the sword deep into death’s withered heart.

Releasing the love bound therein,

While songs of liberation peal light into night’s etiolating silence.


Exchanging my shroud for a chrisom

This new birth inaugurates life’s resurrection.

Relinquishing my sword,

I, for the first time, fully submit myself to love's infection.

My heart unprotected against love’s novel promenade.




About this poem:


For almost 9 years I struggled with depression and anxiety. It was really bad at times. I am so glad that I always found the energy to continue the battle. This past year has been the best emotional year I have had in the last decade. There is hope.

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