...Own Time

Trying to keep one jump ahead out of the devil's own time,
I sacrificed my only love to the speechless gods.
My heart ached from devastation, shattered into shards.
I was up my neck in a swamp, wanting out of slime.
I'm no longer looking for a shelter, there is none.
I haven't put up with unjustice and violence so far.
It's not my fault I was born under unlucky star.
In the world of long bread I feel needless and gone.
Life's an illusion, yet illusory hopes won't come true.
So many times I fell in love, but it faded away.
Sick and tired to face the same routine day after day.
Who knows how longer to wait for changes to go through?

by Aram Stefanian

Comments (3)

'I'm no longer looking for a shelter, there is none.' But, your poetry figurative sense also is a refuge... best wishes...
You have a way with cynical, well-written verse.
Yes I know that feeling...when will time be yours..perhaps humans are expecting too much of life...I dont know..I do know that I like your poem a lot Wishing you joy-Pia