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Its never worse
Conflicted the chest tenses as the heart eases under the mind's lies.
The body knows more
Instinct and observation
A keen exasperation
A tepid trust fall of the mind
Logic.demands its order in hierarchy
The eyes scream truth from the sockets
Sinews pulled to breaking
Tense moments collect sweat
it bleeds from every pore
A harsh dis-ease
The heart kicks to life like a roaring machine
It knows, it knows
Panting between beats
Blackness entreats
Yet nothing happened
Who is the liar?
The devil is a.liar
It will all be fine.
This piece hits with the
This piece hits with the honesty of someone who has lived inside the storm and learned to name every tremor. The way you map the body’s truth against the mind’s distortions is powerful—chest tightening, breath shortening, sweat rising, the heart roaring back to life like a machine refusing to die. You capture that moment when instinct screams louder than logic, when the body becomes the only reliable narrator.
What really struck me is the spiritual undercurrent running through the panic. “It knows, it knows” feels like the soul breaking through the noise, reminding you that fear is often a shadow with no substance. That turn—from blackness entreating to the realization that “nothing happened”—is where the poem transforms. It becomes less about fear and more about awakening, about reclaiming truth from the liar that whispers in the mind.
The closing line lands with a quiet authority. Not dismissive, not naïve—just a steady reminder that clarity returns, that peace is possible, that the devil’s voice doesn’t get the final say.
A raw, honest, beautifully human piece.
With tumultuous realism and
With tumultuous realism and wrenching metaphors, you revealed the path to victory over deception. Often The Lie is so convincing that it contorts our inner being into a state of disorienting agony, as you expressed with fierce and exquisite artistry in this powerhouse of spiritual discovery.
But there’s more. The poem takes a sharp and inspiring turn with: “It knows, it knows” (The perfect words shatter the fragile illusion of indelible darkness) and from there your gifted pen pulls back the curtain.
In the midst of the cyclone “nothing happened”.
A stunning pilgrimage of renewal through acceptance, courage and truth. You are a treasure.
How the mind works or
How the mind works or doesn't; such a perplexity
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver