the tiger

the tiger

I thought I could live peacefully with this loneliness

but by giving my loneliness a name, a shape, a voice

I gave it a life of its own

fed by words and thoughts

it grew and it changed

and in that loneliness a desperation emerged

dark and insidious

wild and spirited

roaming my soul

like a caged tiger

honing its claw in fidgets of frustration

to burst its cage

or to stay and make do

to burst and do what? Go where?

to stay and do what? Be what?

to act or to wait

to act or to wait

back and forth

back and forth

until rendered numb and pathetic

a striped soul

//

I thought I could tame the very beast that I have caged within

by doing nothing

to ignore it

its roars and its hunger

to use reason, words and caresses

when nature cannot be tamed by any

and only made it more wild

//

but the frustration overrode the wildness

making it question itself

eroding every feeling with doubt

rendering every emotion pointless in action or not

teeth blunt and sore to the roots

the tiger now a sad excuse of a tiger

one that merely pities itself to death

//

and in the end I ask myself

should I let it go and say my farewells?

or should I bolt the cage and hide it away

deep, deep inside myself?

 

illustration3

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