Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Suffering Without Hope

One day I will wake
To find you hanging
Above a letter

I won’t need to read it
I already know why

You tell me daily

Different words
Same truth

Suffering without hope

I find myself
Silently mourning
A death
That’s yet to happen

Unable to stop
The inevitability
Of your choice
Despite knowing
You are making it

I should do more
But there’s nothing more I can do

Other than wait

 

One day I will wake
To find you hanging
Above a letter

I won’t need to read it
I already know why

You tell me daily

Different words
Same truth

Suffering without hope

I find myself
Silently mourning
A death
That’s yet to happen

Unable to stop
The inevitability
Of your choice
Despite knowing
You are making it

I should do more
But there’s nothing more I can do

Other than wait


If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.


This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

a waterfall shaping rock

 

thoughts
relentless
a waterfall shaping rock

each drop
trivial
yet collectively
devastating

time
forms ruts
inescapable

consciousness
relentless
a river scarring land

each choice
trivial
yet collectively
devastating

thinking patterns
guiding future
flow


This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 
Read More
Poetry, reflections of the self Zachary Phillips Poetry, reflections of the self Zachary Phillips

The Gift and the Choice

 

When you can see your future,
How do you choose?

Every option has suffering.
Every path leads to death.

Exponentially branching,
Your vision fades,
The deeper you go.

You can’t hold it all.
You don’t have the processing power.

It hurts you, this gift.
You feel it all, all at once.

So you block it,
Mentally put a stop to it.
You turn away from it,
And curse it.

This leaves you dull,
Blind to the beauty of your choice,
The choice you made,
The choice to turn your gift off.

For there is still life,
There is still love,
Vivid, like a flower in the dirt.

If you only knew
how to look.


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