Reincarnation

Weary and torn,
Displaced to no destination,
The storm has taken over,
The wind blowing vigorously,
The trees sway steadily,
We are to a course of no consistency.

Weary and torn,
With internal wounds,
Bleeding profusely,
Dehydrated to wrinkling,
Aging without age,
Seeking tranquility.

The mountains and trees,
Bear witness to our fate,
Birth certificates without family,
Only familiar names,
From a country that is history.

Helter-Skelter we eloped,
To a marathon without medals,
But borders and borderlines to lineate,
A crime for a life in danger,
Prosecution is your reaction.

Identity, a puzzle to be authentified,
Now termed refugees,
Seeking a place of reincarnation,
Hoping to be recognized,
By our transmigrated new souls,
In the midst of somewhere.

by Anzelyne shideshe

Comments (3)

Weary and torn, With internal wounds, Bleeding profusely, Dehydrated to wrinkling, Aging without age, Seeking tranquility..transmigrated new souls.. believing in the theory of reincarnation. refugees with the new circumstances. a fine poem. i was noting how your thinking develops. very fine poem dear Anzelyne
A compelling and creative cry for rest and wholeness to replace weariness and brokenness. Well done my friend!
Weary and torn! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.