Narrow dark alley

Being confined to my body and never ending thoughts.  Feeling cemented and destined for everlasting torture, where not the one who sired and inculcated me nor the one who carried and nurtured me could salvage my exhausted form. I truly feel helpless.

As though trapped in a narrow dark alley the one escape is forward. But for whatever reason each small step I take,  my feet are pierced with thorns of roses left behind from others who have walked my path.  With each feeble breath I take I feel more suffocation. With all the strength within me I have left I attempt to move ahead. But I feel my bleeding feet giving in, shaking with the agitation of falling and never straightening up, I shan’t dare look anywhere but ahead for I fear looking up and seeing disappointment in the eyes of the one whom I pray for salvation to every passing moment.
I wonder, why was it I whom God has put here. Abandoned and left to starve as an animal caged against its own will. Why shall it be I who should be to suffer all the consequences of an action I have never committed? why am I to be punished? For as long as I have been here, I have been stripped off of everything I have possessed. Left cold and drowning in misery for a crime I have never committed. I envy people whom I known times ago, ones who wounded and deceived. Ones which mischief and menace was their only way of life. Ones who were supposed to be in my place but God chose it to be me.
Some days I refuse to move for exhaustion overpowers me. I dread the next moment for I know eventually I shall resume my painful steps. As though in exile, marching away from the sweet past I always cherished. The moments of joy pass me by and i shall only ever experience them in my memory. As a fragile vase’s painted surface that is chipped by the lightest of touches, a piece of me is chipped once i am to leave the ones I have acquainted and at times adored for someplace new where they shan’t follow me to. In the life of mine tranquility is short lived, serenity, almost unattainable.  My versatile environment has shaped my character but has failed to bring about a sense of humility. For I shall never lose the one trait that runs through my blood, never lets me be seen inferior to others. Pride. That I shall never be stripped of.  As a king sitting on his throne with his brilliant crown, with all the riches and power, I hold my head high.  I hold my head quite high for one whose not a king showered in riches, but a bird with broken wings and unable to fly, destined to endure and walk out of survival that is disguised as “living”.  I seek peace in my imagination for it’s the only thing I’m in control of, but even that is inconsistent. The ability to do what’s best has fled my body for everything seems a lie. I have dealt with confusion all my short life, head filled with questions which no one knows the answers to.  The answers shall never be known to me or anyone for no one shall teach you the most important of lessons, dear reader. The arts of living. For one shall live a life that no one else shall. For the living is the painter who makes decisions for their one painting that shan’t be painted twice by any other. A sculptor who shall carve ones own unique statue which no one shall duplicate. A composer whose musical pieces are to be composed by no one else. A poet whose works shall never be rewritten.  We are all artists creating our own art likely for us. And yet at times we cease creating art and are doomed to the trudge in the narrow alley. Where the world vibrant with color turns gray and dull. Where the world full of possibilities feels like a cruel jest with no possible way of achieving anything one wants. But others who have made it out claim that it shall get better, there shall always be something to stay breathing and hoping for. That it takes time and soon we shall feel free to the extent of the living for we all know, true freedom shall be achieved once our bodies lie peacefully in our graves buried deep within the earth and our souls no longer bound to a prison. But even limited freedom sounds enticing enough, I do not trust the statements of others, but I have people whom I love and I shall continue walking for them. And I shall see if I ever will get to resume creating my art which will tell my tale, the tale no one else shall be able to retell.