THE REALIZATION

THE REALIZATION

The dawn is nearing but the darkness remains
As I am held here bound by the chains
That you've put upon me, no apparent way out
From this wilderness of unknowing, this jungle of doubt
A steaming pile of garbage, no escape from the stench
A desert with no oasis, a thirst I can't quench
A black hole in space, this hell that I'm in
An existence of nothing with nowhere to begin

But there must be an exit from this exile of view
Though where I've been stranded, I haven't a clue
My mind now a hodgepodge of cloudy thought
Seeking solace in numbness from sentences bought
So I must focus my energy, utilize all my pain
Concentrate on liberty, use all of my brain
If ever I am to escape from this place
I must see the real you when I look on your face

You must be a madwoman the way you enjoy
Clawing and tearing at the soul of this boy
Your behaviour defines you, you're a low parasite
Who not only feeds on my pain, but in it delight
You're a vile, sick, despicable bitch
Satan's whore, blackhearted witch
Despite all your methods, the evil forces employed
I will remain strong, I will not be destroyed

I am now with plan, I know what to do
I am going to remove, to take from you
What you feed upon, your nourishment
Has found a dagger, though rusted and bent
Will thrust it here deep within his side
And you'll torture him not once he has died
A desperate act by a defiant man
Who will win his freedom however he can

The he you see is not the same
As he who played your sadistic game
He had to die, to more more be
To end the torture, his soul to free
From all the pain he was caused to feel
When you from him his heart did steal
A living death, a period of hell
A trap of love into which I fell

All he required, some sign of your love
An emotion he discovered you're incapable of
Now you beg a new start, but the hour's too late
You must come to grips, accept this as your fate
The tides have changed, the sun has risen
The birds been freed from within its prison
No strings attached, no chains on me
It took some time, but I am free

(c) John Patrick Boutilier, Port Morien, NS, Circa 1977