Heart gentle, eyes mindful
I've always showered
care on ungrateful trees,
the ones that bloomed
and the ones that withered.
I watered them anyway.
In this chaotic world,
compassion is made slavery,
chained with entitlement
and false lovebites,
yet my tender heart
endures through the raid
and self-inflicted questions
of why I have to succumb
to an endless tide.
Sometimes in regret of why
goodness chose me as its heir,
I flip out, leaving the throne empty.
Though I wage wars not to be
kind anymore, I find myself retreating.
In the end, it is nature's course for me.
But should I drown in empathy
that l lose my mind? My use or
willingness to set boundaries
and say No when the shoes
don't fit my legs? For I have
been in the watch house
without looking. It took me
courage and self-awareness
to glare beyond the boiling surface.
I washed my eyes in
discernment and worth,
to dive past the silent suck.
I befriended clarity and in her depth,
I learnt to work with both minds.
For kindness doesn't exist to
drain me but help me find my path.
So I dished portions of bitter
sour soups to users and
drummers without rhythm,
Just to test their intent
and they smiled at its
sweetness.
They would forge a life in
death just to drain the
remaining water in my
well. I let them go in
thirst because there's barely
a drop left for me and my heart
has now tested the rough edges
of the valleys and the shape
of my eyes have been born anew.
So conscious, it wouldn't flinch
if dust was thrown in it.
And the lovers that used to ride
on my patchless boat, they have
now drowned, since the engines only
worked in the purity of their needs.
It is not I that led them to
destruction, It is their greed.
I offered them bandages still,
I showed them the path,
I directed them through the journey,
I didn't go with them else they would
make me lose my way and distract
me from the gold mine in front.
My peace has never been this full.
Full of happiness and Bluebells.
I am a Watchman that sees
through the dark forest and
I shall live a long life setting
those standards.
Still an heir to the throne
now I sit with an eagle eye.
My soul in good deeds
will never be used again.
Copyright © Tonye George | Year Posted 2024
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