Poem: Turn on The Light

I could drag on like this or I may not
About how I’m living or dying – guessing or caring not
Thriving is a lesser problem – this is a different kind;
I’m not seeking to be special …
Whereas what is normal is so undefined
What is my existence? I’m blinded to ordained purpose…
Who am I?

I’m suffocating here in my own space
Trapped in it’s vast vain-ness;
I’ve framed with many dreams, walls of a kind,
But they are far too porous with so many doors,
Behind which are just more questions.
So I’m groping to steady myself in the darkness,
And all I am catching is thin air.

Ah! how futile is self-appointed purposes
… and self-justification ultimately!
Alas, aren’t we all born into this darkness?

I could continue on the brink of true experience -
In a slumber-walk without salvation; unable to snap out
Of this nightmare of spiritual death…
Or I could look up higher to The One who
Turns on true Spiritual Light.

© 2010, Poem by Tee Akindele