Hell Fire


The feeling of mere oblivion,
Is what possesses me.
I am bound by these chains,
Trying to get free.

Memories of what’s gone,
And thoughts forlorn.
Feelings out of the nook,
And acceptance of truth.

Ropes of fire entwine,
All my limbs and spine.
Scalding me from inside,
Scorching all my pride

Burning in this fire,
Facing Hell’s ire
I see a new light
Hopes of an escape flight.

And like a phoenix,
I shall rise again.
Burn my splendid form
And let me be born again.

This is among the first poems I ever wrote a couple of years ago. It was shorter than this initially but I wrote more today before publishing it here. Back then, when I had just started writing, I used to write almost every day. Sometimes more than one poem a day. It was as if all my thoughts and expressions of the past twenty years were just waiting to explode on the blank pages in front of me. I had suddenly found an outlet for all my thoughts, my expressions, my hopes, wants and desires. These stanzas above reflect my state of mind at that time. How writing unshackled me from caged life (in terms of creativity) and I looked at it like a redeeming light which would help me in becoming a different person.


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