The Minutes Between Helplessness And Grace

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      I stand helpless , as I find myself handcuffed by tight ropes and every time I struggle I end up hurting myself more. My surroundings create a more nerve-racking reason to tick my aura off into anger, like a furious beast hunting its next prey. The memory of all that happened seem to recollect itself back into my mind, as I allow myself to get lost into the dark path down memory lane. 
     
      The lesser my resistance and faith in myself, the less strength I can gain from this prison. The more I feel my soul drowning in the ocean of pain. The deeper the sting I feel , as I try to free myself, the more I lose hope in ever regaining my grace again. As the time passes in this captivation, the more I realize that my mind is playing tricks on me. 
         
      The higher the rage I endure , as I feel the shame and pain of the situation I am in. The memories I have doesn’t match the version I see for any of them now, the vivid images stored in my head became weakened as I outgrew myself more. I acknowledged the fact that we all fail to consider the progress and pain we endured, the blossomed flowers entwined with our soul , nurtured by the freedom we fought to have. How come I am loosing my freedom now to the clone of yourself stuck in my head? How am I allowing you to sink your sharpened claws into myself , my new self? 
         
        What sort of power or magic your spirit has on my soul and mind no matter how much I grow? Your memory, your existence crosses the boundary of my territory, my walls built so high for others to reach except you. My castle that I guard with all the might and power I have. 
        
      All the grace i know I built within me is engraved by parts of your own soul that matched with pieces of my own. As I comprehend all this in the darkness you Keep me in, I start finding my way back , as my own rescue. As that what always happened since your departure, since the war.

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