To The Six Furies Of My Mind...

we,

who are being attacked by
the Five Furies

mine now Six

have no other possible defense
to protect
our minds

but to write these lines

so do not ask me
why i am writing th
ese

i am being chased
and so i am running away

i have to run away still
because i am being chased like wind to another wind

like nothing
to another nothing

i am
perhaps still afraid of

the death of my
mind

the death of the wind
the trees will die too

the fireflies turn off their lights
the birds fall down the trees

i, who want
to still think and think to think some more
has no other option

i write
to make the Six Furies know
that i also know how to protect myself
that i am
a survivor

i do not speak here
but the Six Furies must stop a while and hear

they must listen
lest they shall die in their own noise
like fire on their long hair

i make
my plea,

i am guilty, i am guilty
i know i am guilty of all the lies and deceit

but give me more time please
to choose

a happy
death.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!