True words
Im feeling sick
Feom the inside out
Im feeling wrong
No longer strong
Im feeling weak
And meek
Towards my life
Im feeling dependant like an old man to their walking stick
But not for moving for stalling
I am not well
I feel down
And around and around
My wishes are nit my command
I am not anything
I am not promising
I am not right
There is no fight
Left in me
I am alone
With a heart of stone
All these ideas
Are like drugs
Turning me over
Into a dry ash leaf
I am a thief
Of myself
Broken unspoken
An emotoy tokwn
Unable to fulfill
My own aspirations
Chosen
Fragmented
I am ill represented.
I am not well
What it is...
I see Life like a rose in the ice... beautiful but with cold settings - There are so many incredible things out there - but we always need to fight and perservere against the hardships too... otherwise the cold will win ... and we will wither away.
My imagination has led me to believe in something called 'Sudan Fairytale' -
The fantasy that My country will one day be independant and proud, never selfsish to provide its people with its needs, give freedom and success to all, be forever committed to achieve a prosperous inhabitance to every Sudanese in their own country-
My eyes fail me and I see the truth which I call - 'Khartoum Heartbreak' - This is a theme running through the blog under the 'Khartoum Heartbreak' Poems and whatever else about Sudan conveying broken down love, poor streets and cut off electricity along with a lot of other decays and problems in Khartoum city Life.
But I love my country and so I have no choice but to merge the Pain and the Love as one.
Faith is my heart and I could never do without it hoping in my prayers that I can be someone better always and that God forgives me as I fall in Mistakes through that frozen path of Life...
Sometimes I feel under control with all the too many emotions that run to colour my days and nights - Books, movies, music, dreams, friends, family, strangers, travel, - reality - the 10 O' Clock news -Most of the time I'm very Lost in trying to understand - whatever happens becomes tangled into writing this confusing memoir -
It's a really odd combination of air - not sure whether it is refreshing or suffocating - stabilising or maddening - But I breathe and
so it is
'Memoirs of a Sudanese breath' as I am 'Lost but under control' -
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