TRAPPED…a poem by RACKARA

Grey, adrift, desolate, faded,
A cage of negative brilliance that I personally envisaged,
The clouds of doubt finally in maturation.
A forecast of dribbles and showers of stagnancy,
The whirlwind of imperfection etching in a malignancy.
I don’t recognize the reflection in the icy mirror,
A shade of my future past that only I could stir.
How did I end up here?
A wrong turn here, a tumble there,
My arrogant template finally yields what I wrought,
A field devout of brimmed friendly drought.
The exaggerated constructs of strength and confidence tower beyond the silver lining,
Builds of straw nay firm filling.
The storm after the calm erect,
Broken, battered but without a scratch I retreat.
My haven of emptiness awaits on the shores of my deceit,
Populated with a history of relics and sullied scripts.
My sun expires to the fringe of memory,
Forsaken and relegated to a flame without a flurry.
My shadow my only friend sculptures me in time,
My mind a foe indifferent in kind,
Without a tether rebirth can only be an antonym .
I am the architect of the ill-conceived maze of inception,
A wheel of trials and tribulations brewed in defection.
Broken promises and murky eyes,
Burned bridges and regret lies.
The night is smoldering ,
And my arctic melting,
My essence dissipates,
A menu of desolation my only taste.
What’s left besides my hollow soul?
A citizen of my past,
An outcast of the future.
A skeleton of sand crumbling into a barren wasteland.
I drown in my own tears of fear.
No destiny in sight that is clear.
This is my prison without end,
I am the warden with no name,
Entombed in a paradox with just myself to blame.