Purgatory
by Sean Michael, February, 2015
Am I being punished? Am I cursed?
For what? Some other beings amusement?
For past wrongs I’ve paid for with my life and now must give my soul?
To what god or devil do I owe this debt?
When is my penance paid?
When will my spirit receive a reprieve?
Was this life meant for suffering and loss?
Yet is this life not considered the greatest loss of all?
What is this turmoil within, this ceaseless strife between life and death?
Why am I here, what am I doing?
Is there an answer that does not provoke more questions?
Could one really be destined (in this darkness) to serve some purpose?
But if that purpose goes un-noticed, un-recognized, un-served?
Short from greatness, the yearnings of his spirits, never to cease,
must drive him mad!
In this prison of ones own design,
Freedom unfound must be sanity lost.
The man with paper and no pen,
The man with words and no voice,
A cacophony of silence in a world full of noise.
Purgatory.
Posted for dVerse Poets, Open Link Night, March 12, 2015
Mad Poet Enchained 
We do design our prisons – and come to hate the walls. Good questions – some perhaps unanswered forever.
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Yes, perhaps we do.
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Intense and powerful
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I was in a rather intense mood when I wrote it. I could actually feel my soul groan in agony, and I was just short of crying and screaming. Thank you. You’ve read my spirit.
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All of the questions we ask and some will always remain unanswered. And the walls to the prison are often of our own design. Good write.
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Yes, is is true…
Drugs (a prison)… Untamed anger (a prison)… Fear (a prison)
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The prison walls we have inside.. The prison walls outside.. Somehow the connections are there but we hate those walls.
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Because we were born to be free, and the walls only inhibit us from this freedom. We can enjoy the animals in the zoo, but do they enjoy the zoo?
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Purgatory or the path to our Soul? An inner quest to being. How we see things changes how we experience them.
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And you are one step ahead of this poem.
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“The man with paper and no pen,
The man with words and no voice”
That last stanza really strikes me hard…you have defined purgatory so very well!
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Thank you, Mary, for hearing this poem. It’s difficult to be silenced when there’s so much to say.
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“A cacophony of silence in a world full of noise.
Purgatory.”
This is stunning.
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Stunning is such a lovely word. Thank you.
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Truly purgatory is a human place.. a place between darkness and light that knows no fate.. a place where no fear exists with no joy as well.. a place in the middle with no passion to spark a light.. Ah.. but the reprieve of purgatory is in life it will come to end..:)
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Where you feel a struggle between life and death.
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Reading about you Sean, I understand more.
Here you have a voice and I will respond to it.
Kind regards
Anna :o]
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Thank you, Anna. Poetry is definitely my voice.
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amazingly powerful.. that place between light and dark is so hard to escape sometimes… especially when stuck with those questions we wish we had the answers to.
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Yes, sir. Thank you.
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