There is a stranger in our midst
A mad man, peeking through the skeins of our mind
A sad man, he is.
Lurking, Waiting, to come out and scream
To laugh at your fears
The monster of your dreams
Beware of his sad eyes
His mad eyes, mocking your tears
Your past years, full of lies
Take a hold, get a life…
Don’t let the foreigner out
‘Cause he doesn’t understand the rules of the game,
Even if you shout it out loud.
Don’t heed his words, they say
His silent prayers are blasphemous and tainted with sin
Hide him, if you may.
Hide him where no one would find him
In the dark recess of your mind,
Hide him under a pseudonym.
He is an outcast, a morbid blitz
Of your own soul, your nemesis
Stow him away, the stranger in our midst.
So, X is for Xenophobia!
Phobia, as we all know, means an intense dislike of something or someone. Xeno means foreigners. But sometimes, we end up becoming strangers to our own selves. This poem is dedicated to all those lost souls who for some reason, have lost touch with their essence.
I must confess the last three letters are testing my patience like anything! The challenge is drawing to a close, and in the last week I find it to be the toughest ’cause poetry is not something that comes easily to me.
But like they say, it’s the darkest just before dawn. So right now, I have rolled up my sleeves, prepared to face the last two days of an amazing challenge with a brave face.