Before I Wither

Before I Wither

Paula Robles Nettel

I might as well give myself to sin

and stump on the silly boundaries

of the idealism that governed me 

so long, so far into this loneliness.

Waiting for what? 

That my body dries in righteousness? 

I given up on me, 

through the silence of a God 

I will soon stop believing in. 

I might as well jump into the pond

of disbelief,

that the righteous man exists

for I find more honest men 

with their true nature exposed 

in the world of open sin 

than in the world 

of the striving righteous ones. 

I might as well become like them, 

more human, less righteous.

Soul and heart have been wasted 

in an a world driven by desire 

camouflaged in a lie of crumbling 

institutions,

sustained by pillars baring the name 

of love and fidelity turned fickle. 

I might as well have a funeral now

bury my heart and hope 

before I wither, 

I exchange them for freedom and truth

and the company 

of the unrighteous honest ones. 

I grieve this loss with whatever goodness 

left in me, 

my heart was so good and my hope so deep,

it is hard to part from them,

without crying them farewell.

Hundvåg 

13.04.16