The Odds

Dazed into oblivion,
By all that is,
The free, the fettered,
The labeled, the repressed;
O! how I wish I could breathe
Into the truth unshadowed,
The bliss unchallenged.

I escaped through the dark doorway,
Eyeing away from mortals like a thief;
But what have I stolen?
My time, which people claim to be theirs?
Or my Self, which I ought to part with?
Or an alienated Soul, to which I cling?

I looked around, for eyes that could see
That cared to see; for a smile that could
Travel down to the angst fingering me,
And i was left to wondering if I were
The chosen solitude, that withdrew unto
Itself, once the external failed to suffice,
And I, were my final abode, even as
Love abound, in ties, in roots of blood.

My idleness echoed voices black;
I could hear them, for they rose in me,
Scary they were, unlike Me to be mine
And i hushed them, frantically;
I gagged the evil-heads before it hurt
For the battle has to be won,
Faith has to survive; and let I be
Exalted heavenward, above the
Trials and tribulations, in all its purity.