Suffering silently inside the walls;
The best, the only way to go
When your options are limited
And apathy rules on blank faces.
In the land of endless opportunity
I have reached the bitter end
And have come to it with disgust;
Utter contempt fills me as I wait.
I wait...and for what am I waiting?
Dry tears crust over my injured soul
As I wait to watch savory enjoyment
On the faces of overfed carnivores.
How long shall I wait for justice,
How long is the line I am on,
A line that is filled with centuries
Of the forgotten and left behind?
Tomorrow is coming furiously fast
As is a numb acceptance of today.
But I will be reminded of it again
In a world that has it no other way.
Forced to comply for the whole,
My belly is swollen by the rape,
Seasoned and deceptively masked,
To make one smile and enjoy it.
Can I continue to endure this,
Seeking health and happiness
In a world that's lost beyond hope?
Can I continue in this fashion?
Or should I give up this pursuit?
Should I abandon my sacred return
To the paradisiac garden of Eden?
Once lost, innocence is 'ever gone.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: November 6th, 2025 09:07
- Comment from author about the poem: For Throwback Thursday. Written in 2014, but it still speaks to where I find myself today. Some echoes don’t fade — they just find new walls to reverberate against.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 36
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Doggerel Dave, Salvia.S
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Comments10
Would it were not so this state of life, that we make strides only to be beaten back so many timesr. But perhaps if we can advance just one step beyond the pale each time, we might one day make peace with life. A very compelling and thought provoking poem my friend.
Bella, you put it beautifully...each step forward met with another wall, yet somehow we hope. Deep thanks for reading and sharing my friend. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
Thank you for your wonderful poetry, filled with the deepest heart and soul!
Are we not indeed parasites on this earth that we suck dry of its resources. In Eden too were we not parasitic living without effort. A thought provoking read my friend.
Soren, that’s a piercing reflection…you’re right, there’s a parasitic thread in us, for sure, that could make a vampire shudder at times . I really appreciate you drawing that connection, my friend. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
You are always most welcome Tristan
Yes, it's imperative you fit into your coffin now, so one must stay fit and slim.
The funeral parlours are weighing people now, and if you don't make the weight, they put your family on a diet.
Just dig out the rules for entering heaven now.
Paul, you’ve got a way of making mortality sound like satire itself…“fit into your coffin” says it all. Grimly hilarious and weirdly true. Appreciate the read and the thoughts, my friend. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
Yet Milton wrote 'Paradise Regained' as well as 'Paradise Lost' though I've read neither. Doh!
Now we know it's a mission impossible for P to stop...... don't finish that sentence, but here's a hint: glug-glug. lol.
See, I've reduced him to the letter 'P' - well, sometimes anyway.
Haha, Orchidee, this gave me a real laugh…you and your Miltonic mischief. LOL! I’ll take the “glug-glug” as both warning and 🤮. Damn it, I just couldn't keep it down. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
Erm, did Milton know Popeye? lol. Well - is it impossible for Popeye to stop..... glugging? Don't answer that in detail! lol.
A lovely poem about the end of freedom...so when are we free to end it on our own? Very interesting and very nicely written!
Thank you, 🥷. You read the hurt tension the words...the fading line between freedom and surrender. Thank you my dear friend. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
Of course!
Good write, Tristan. Somber and awakening.
Thank you, Jerry. Much appreciated, my friend! ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
One hears a cry of frustration about injustice, wasted chances, and the pain of trying to keep going in a world that feels broken, in a system that doesn’t care, where some are forgotten while others live in excess. The images of waiting for justice and carrying hidden pain hit hard, and that final question about whether to keep going or give up makes the whole piece linger. Both honest and powerful. 🕊️🙏
Beautifully said, arqios. You caught it...the exhaustion, the stubborn will to keep breathing when everything says stop. Grateful for your words, my friend. Truly. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
Nice. Here's to breathing while we live! 🕊️🙏
Liked this a lot, Tristan. Existential questions I definitely have no answer for......
Thank you, Dave! Glad it delivered and glad to know I'm not alone in having no answers. Much appreciated. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
Yes some stories and events are troublesome even today and despair is writ on most faces- but, while there is liege, let not the flame of hope get extinguished
Amen. Thank you, my friend,, for reading and commenting. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
pleasure is mine in reading such verse..thanks for sharing
You are most welcome. 🥰
I really like this. Especially the line 'Dry tears crust over my injured soul'
I often feel the same way. Always hanging on to hope but stuck in the pain.
My friend, pain that lingers and hope that refuses to die… they sit side by side more often than people admit… and I’m glad the poem gave you language for it. The power of poetry, no? We’re not alone. Thank you again for reading and for sharing. Always appreciated. ⚙️🕯️🖤🥀
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