Frozen in time

Jailed, trapped in a secluded place… away from my dreams, away from my hopes away from myself, I try to breathe here, and try to meet myself, but fail always as I failed in my exams. Every situation, every person, everything seems to be the examiner to put me on test one or another… and like a lost worrier, enslaved and commanded to play war, I keep on fighting with the situation with my lost soul. Deaf, I can’t hear my heart beats… are they there? Blind, I can’t see my future… is it there? Or is there mere mute darkness, endless like my pains?


And here I search ways to keep myself alive, to survive to the moment of escape, to the point of freedom, to fill my dreams in my arms… but blind, deaf and also anaesthetized… I feel nothing. I doubt whether I have the thing called mind, there is something mutilated, blunted like a blunted weapon that has lost its sharpness facing tons of rust. Rusted because it was not in use; it’s still not in use, as I tolerate the injustice mutely, fearing to face more of it… and I face more of it… often.


And I worry, about my finished future… about my charred hopes and dries tears. Tears come out sometimes, and I expect to feel their warmness, at least they will thaw my frozen soul… but alas the tears are also cold, dumb like my emotions. Already surrendered, I beg them for escape, and they laugh at me in return. How can they be so ruthless? Heartless examination and the exam takers, they themselves lack heart why should they bother for that of others? They crush my heart; mercilessly make me numb by giving intolerable pains… still I live, expecting some magic to happen.


And I believe in magic… I still dare to believe something, when my life is an orchestra of unbelievable happenings, and shocks… endless, coming one after another or all at the same time. I wish, I pray… I beg to the deities, and ask for some sense in life, but never get it. And I sit finally kneeling in the darkness of my trapped mind. Waiting… waiting, hoping for some hopes to come to sensitize…


Then I get tired, and anger comes to rule my soulless lifeless life. I burn down the darkness and shout to make some sound. I get my rusted weapon to hit it on their head… I hit it on the walls to get free, and kick the wall, punch it to the moment of exhaustion. Then I drop down wounded like a mad, like a tired schizophrenic being ordered by some sound. And then the hopes come to bandage my wounds, to heal my soul… and I go to sleep to get lost in the arms of my dreams…


But my dreams shake me, to make me awake. I open my eyes but don’t believe in the scene. The rust of my mind has gone, so is the darkness. I see, I feel, I sense the dawn in my life. I see my life, right there with me, smiling and calling me. My dreams introduce me with my life, and make me worthy to survive. Oh sweet dreams, creators of my hopes, that’s the reason why you’re worthy of my life.