Concealed identity
Pardon me for keeping silentand concealed under the circumstances
of the failures and shortcomings of man
resulting in such irremediable tragedies
that nothing ever can refrain the gods from weeping
constantly profusely over man's disastrous incapacity
of handling his own fate and course of action,
turning all of history into a cesspool of black tragedy
of hopelessness, like a black hole of no escape from hell,
an infinity of sorrows and a universal ocean of tears;
so I keep out of man's affairs of only vicious circles,
hiding my identity and face in anonymity
to spare humanity the terrible reality and aspect of my scars,
that go too deep under the skin of universal life
like undermining all existence and humanity
with some volcanic earthquakes of its lost cause to perdition,
leaving life no meaning left but death.
I wear dark glasses just to spare my friends
the sadness of my eyes and heart and soul
and keep surviving merely by not yet dying,
the most ultimate and natural thing to do
and nothing else, while socially I appear a perfect lady,
strong and stalwart, stable and a splendid sport
but only for a show to hide the fact
that inside I am crying my heart out forever.
Poetry by Laila Roth
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Written on 2017-07-01 at 14:22
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