A lttle poem, by me.

“Little Wing”

I have to do something,
My sanity is imploring me that it is futile.
Fruitless.

Down in the recess of my soul,
I have choked myself.
I’m gasping for breath,
I’m drowning in a sea of confusion.

I have gazed at all the mountains,
Walked the treacherous paths,
Been surrounded by all the gifts,
Mother Earth has given me.
Inside, I’m scared. Petrified,
Afraid.

I’m weeping.

My arms are wide open,
I’m grasping only cold air.
I scream as far as my voice will carry.
No one is listening.

Is this the pain of pursuing a dream?

My heart is crying out in anger to proceed.
I have waited for this moment,
For my entire life.

I stare at the beginning of my creation,
All along I know this is I.
All along the voices, that is now echoes,
Is telling me to be brave.

Carry me,
For I, cannot bear another instance.
Am I stranded?
Is this the frozen baron wasteland of hell?
I’m cold.

I give the orders,
“March!” and my feet reluctantly obeyed.
This is the beginning.
This is what is it means,
To be the person in my soul.


Jason Chung, 2005