Storm

DBglc31WAAQuyEg
“Distorted”  Oil on Canvas

There is this angst inside of me.
I want to keep in silence,
but my blood is raging in fire;
my thought is screaming in wrath;
my heart throbbing with intense vexation.

If I speak, no one spares time to listen.
I am longing for someone to talk to.
I am longing for somebody whose genuine heart
cares to listen to my thoughts, from my heart and soul.

I tried speaking, yet no one understands my language.
In my spoken and unspoken words, I dare to express.
Yet neither one hears nor feels the vibration of the roaring, of my silent voice.

I can only question… and hoping somehow, somewhere,
some kind of unknown being, maybe be able to indulge me with the
satisfaction in response to my query.

How do you feel if you’re being ignored?

How does it feel if you are burning candles at both ends, only to
find out, no one even cares?

How would you feel if you try the best all you can to perfect your
craft, and you’re not being appreciated?

How would you feel when you commit yourself to render service, yet
you hear and see nothing but criticism, skepticism and doubt?

How do you feel when you think you don’t have the freedom to
create something on your own?

How do you feel when you have a pure intention of loving what you do, and your only reward is the joy and love of what you do, yet someone from out of nowhere, foresee it as rivalry, competition and maybe even worse, a threat?

How would you feel when someone you respected and trust tells you,”You can’t do it?”

If and only if, you fell how I feel…
Look straight into my eyes and tell me, “It sucks!”

With all these anguish, affliction,
distress… these tribulations boiling inside me..
I realized that nothing in life is worth caring for,
but my own life,
my own destiny,
my own journey.

Only in Nature, can I fully express myself. It is my only refuge…
the non-physical and intangible… it understands and listens to me in
silence.

It is better for me to reveal my inner grief to the trees, for I know, it
engraves my emotions unto its bark, like a mist that will vanish with
the whisper of the wind. And even if the wind hears it, it will only soar unto the space and into the space it remains.

I will travel alone in the storm, and I know, I will thrive and survive.     

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s