The Roads I Carve

Poem By Zak Raz

what madness have i inherited. not from kin, nor from friends,

not from society, nor from the jinn,

not from the angles, nor from the devil,

is it from adam and eve, is it a gift,

or a curse i received, is it so minuscule,

so trivial a feat, or is it more than me,

a wishful story of mystics, of whom i read,

of whom i can never be of, when i am stuck,

where i am stuck, where am i it in between..

or is it a path carved only for me..that i cannot see..

a path not yet made, but waiting for me,

to take the next step, the next foot, to the right or to the left,

but if being stuck is my destiny, that i cannot move to nor away,

from whatever is waiting at the end of this road, then how am i to know,

what road to make, or where to go, and more so,

how do i know, where to go.

Comments about The Roads I Carve

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of RAZ

The Stranger In White

Tread on the withered roads of life
Heaps of love and self sacrifice
Look around so you may meet
The Stranger in White


What fools these mortals be?
Empty shells of misery,
They love and hate, cry and weep,
yet every feeling left incomplete

What You Call Love..

What you call love,
Is an insignificant mockery,
of what it really is,


A desire,
To be approved, to be recognized,
to be held for, in a place
that brings joy to those,

The Nature Of My Kind

Time to meditate,
a place to resuscitate,
deep within this emptiness
the screaming silence that emanates,


I come knowing, knowing my fate rebound,
Wondering aloud, as I carry these boulders
these boulders that are weighing me down
I feel them creaking, tearing in me