Silent Time

Silent Time
By: Edgardo Arevalo Cruz

In this tacitstorm of my life,
No pacification of sense of injuries,
So pointedly trusted to my sadness
That an instinct of me
Moved my spirit to unsettling freedom:
Diverging in a different direction from normal life:
Indicating solid but soft diverse of ego
Under plights of my bent self.
As I offended against my respect,
I sailed to the mighty sea of Why,
At the birth of where I came.
Asking, do I have to be like this
By which my self a taunting piece of others?
Do I have to bear the sorrows of solitude
That I cannot even turn to somebody
Whether I am with joy or with sadness?
Oh, great Why, do I have look for myself
So that I could find solutions to my envious self?

With pestered act feeding my embarrassment,
Do I have fraudulently change in form of myself,
That inside practical of me,
To indicate the manner of me?
Oh, Why, do I have to sing my odes of life
That is really so tragic to bear,
In this silent time of my life?
Where can I find in you a peacecure
To the last point of my weak spot?

You have given this to me, oh compassionate Why,
Tell me what to do, delight my prayers and touch me,
Take it away from me, if not, get me.

In a hush deceiving, they said, when, too long.

/eacruz
2silent
16 Mar 95