TRAVAIL OF MY SOUL

Travail of my soul inclined me towards Beelzebub

Searching for happiness in plenitude

Amassing sorrow in undeserved amplitude.

The things I seek for, I find not, not even meagrely

The things I have are things I do not desire.                                                         5

A sore travail that drench my soul in abyss

Made in me a fistula not by surgery but a hole

By the incessant ordeals that bedevilled.

With thieves and vultures at my back

The storm keeps on twisting with no crack.                                                          10

Confusing me and those with me, my soul

My heart and my body, on the right path to stroll.

With endless unabated weariness coming with the stress

Nothing makes sense anymore than this sweet madness

And what I feel, together, we feel a glorious sadness.                         15

Long years of bitter travails, in my soul, today

Finds a habitat, and its hard at the end of the day.

In search of some distraction, a beautiful release

From this hapless trauma. Hell on earth.

Memories seeping from my vein                                                                               20

Making me empty and weightless, in pain.

Flying, I wish, to meet the soothing angel;

With wings but heaviness in my soul

Weighing me down, truncating my whole.

Weightless and my wings clipped. Crestfallen.                                                   25

Lost in my reverie, in trance I can fly;

Waking up to meet my wings still clipped.

My utmost ordeal will be, not lost love or less;

Not austerity; not failure; not fears of endlessness.

At the end, my travails will guide me to God.                                                      30