Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Blind

One of the darker, morbid poems I'd written. And one of my personal favourites.

Blind

In the battlefield of Love
Victories are far and few in between
Tormented souls weep in defeat
The mortally wounded lay battered
Their broken spirits shattered

How can it be deemed a game
When there are rules
And then there are none
In Love or War nothing's fair
This truth overwhelms me in despair

As the conflict rages on
My Conscience desperately struggles
To keep Temptation at bay
Tainted thoughts cloud my vision
Goading me on to make a fatal decision

The flags are hoisted
The stakes are raised
It dawns on me: Blood will be split this very day
For Chances of a truce are slim
As Fate is eager to claim yet another victim

His heavy hand deals a cruel blow
Struck down, defenseless and left in the cold
My heart is pierced a million times over
Hacked into a mangled state
As Love drains to Hate

This bloodshed would've been spared
Had I only been but Blind
Now I realise far too late
The gift of sight has but ruined me
So really, why see?

Teo Yuan Ching
28 September 2004

Copyright © 2004 Teo Yuan Ching


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