Who the Hell Am I, in the End?
Am I the ruse,
an intellectual fabrication of delusion,
held in belief until it becomes true,
or even a bastion of right,
bleeding from a tortured plight
until I can no longer see
what’s wrong or right,
simply what pours from me in sympathy
of my yearning soul.
To know unequivocally,
is a dream ill-founded,
for I am surrounded by confusion,
restitution for all my presumptions,
deductions of logic so esteemed
as to qualify as platitudes,
yet let me in, truth,
don’t keep me at arm’s length
drowning in my denial.
The mirror just reflects an image,
a soulless effigy of me,
where depth of eyes is compromised,
lost in an aged flesh prison,
and mind still abides its temple,
lamenting what I could have done,
not accepting what I have,
instead, questioning my very angle,
the entanglements I’ve created.
Am I a repetition, an expedition rerun,
where steps already taken
ache from the monotony of vocation,
yet I remain invested in voicing my candor,
despite the nagging antagonistic dark voice
of my inner skepticism,
where long its been fed a harsh reality,
regularly assessed and duly placed
in shadowed spaces.
Still, no answers come,
my very state in question,
and I’ll remain asking,
tasking my mind to find clarity,
about just who I am,
regardless of what I’ve done,
besides the points I’ve won
and the loves I’ve lost,
all to come at greater cost than I knew.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
- Brutal Night - March 30, 2021
- Like a Breeze Recalls - March 27, 2021
- Torrents - September 5, 2020
2 thoughts on “Who the Hell Am I, in the End?”
Do we ever truly know who we are till our last incarnation? Nice work, Tony. Take care.
Glad you related Phyllis. Cheers!