used to scream with passion.
But now I'm tired;
The obscurity that silently hovered,
Made its way to my brain
Through my ears.
My face was now red with dried tears
And my fists stopped clenching,
Passion left them
Leaving them open sores.

After days, weeks, months,
I don’t remember how long it took
Something changed.
It seemed like my heart started pumping blood through my veins again
The passion returned
But it was different this time,
It felt more motivated
More forthright.

I looked at myself in the mirror,
And I still looked as if bruises covered me.
I could still feel the obscure darkness,
But it was thinning at a steady pace
And some kind of adrenaline was filling my heart.

It was a flashing neon sign.

It took many years to get things started
It took many years to pump the passion
Into others hearts.
I was very didactic in my attempts,
And sincere.
Very indignant
Maybe a little optimistic.

But of course it’s not over.
After years of accusatory action,
I had to surrender to my death bed.
But I don’t feel sad,
If anything I feel content because

It’s still not over
But because I tried
We’re a little bit further.