THE LAMENTATIONS OF A MAN IN DESPAIR

THE LAMENTATIONS OF A MAN IN DESPAIR

I roam these streets of chaos, oh what shall become of me?

Climbing these mountains in blaring heat yet safe I fail to see.

I met a sort from foreign roots,

His belt hanging beneath his boots,

He made a joke for my amuse,

But even simper, my cheeks refuse.

Oh, wander! Oh, wanderer! what is your cause?

To be this lonely and still repulse,

The feeling of peace and tranquil bliss,

You must be one I would dare to piss.

Stranger! Stranger! I replied,

I am not this way, I suddenly cried,

Lost in a mind with madness intertwined,

A heavenly utopia I aspire to find.

I find myself on levelled ground,

Disoriented still, nothing found,

After all I have strived in plight,

After all, no view of hope in sight.

How daunting can it be when hope is lost,

Like this body of which reserves I exhaust,

With zealous pride and curious grief,

In search of home and sweet relief.

Give me reason and I would fight,

Give me purpose to rekindle light,

Although in vain the prize repaid,

In search of home in pain, I wade.

Started this journey so brave, so conceit,

The grasses I combed with both my feet,

Now parts of me begin to frail,

From all the hurt, myself refrain.

So far from me is what I seek,

A place where hope smiles and love speaks,

To live it one day is all I plead,

In this world or the next believed.

I want to call home, home, home, home, home,

I want to know home, home, home, home, home.

Description:

The lamentation of a man in despair is a poem about the meaning of home. Home is safe, peaceful, tranquil, blissful, a heavenly utopia, hope, a sweet relief, purpose, home is light. All these are words I used to describe home in the poem, and that is what home means to me, a place where all your pain, trouble, and all kind of lamentation, carried away as soon as you feel it, a feeling, a place, a person, home is love, loving and being loved.

Although the man in my poem grows weary and does not find home, he stays hopeful and still believes, which is also home. However, he does not know. This man is me; this man is you the reader; this man is anyone in despair, and this is a gift from me to you, the assurance that there is always hope in despair.