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Afterword


it's deep into the thick wide night

and i'm wistful and weary and worn

i'm trying to rest the eye of my mind but

it's beaten, it's bruised and it's torn

it's deep into the cold grizzly night

and i'm trying to conjure a yawn

but mostly i'm hoping

(i'm praying? i'm hoping.)

to make it to cresting dawn

i'm deep in the night

this unforgiving night

and i hold but a word as a sword

against my own mind,

against sickening time,

against weakness my life can't

afford

i plead mercy of night

this gargantuan night

as i slither and slip down it's maw

and i firmly believe

(i'm hoping? believing.)

that this is the last breath i'll draw

it's off to hear

in this pit, this dark lane

(but these fingertips frame the

words all the same)

that here in this nest, this dark

night, this black home

the player will win his best game;

the night will try but will never

succeed for itself it cannot maim;

and here

the wistful, weary and worn

may indeed lie lame

but rested they may get up and

in doing so are changed...

it's odd

out of place

to hear these words at the this time

but i'll frame them all the same -

the phoenix is only as strong as the feather

and the feather is as strong as the flame.

 

Micke van Zyl is a poet from South Africa. They used to submit a lot of poetry to competitions in high school. Micke is a recovering heroin user who is now ten months sober.

This is the first thing they wrote after almost four years of feeling very dead inside, two of which years were spent self medicating with drugs. They wrote this poem at about a month sober while experiencing suicidal thoughts. Micke did not see a light at the end of the tunnel. Poetry helped them see the light, eventually, and brought them where they are today.

#deep #night #rest #eye #mind

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