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Poetry: How weak and helpless a man I be

29th Nov 2013

Standing high in the sky, on top aloft,

The world so still, the breeze so soft,

Peering down the miles, over the edge of the ledge,

Every limb every hair strand standing erect,

As I pluck the last feather of courage from my soul,

I see my disgraced face buried in the sand.

O how weak and helpless a man I be…


Nightmare visions,

Of mighty mountains upon the oceans,

Of creeping crawling hairy monsters,

Of the shrivelled up cloak of loneliness and emptiness,

Darkness arrives with its plague of fears,

The chilling whispers of a pitch black night,

Tear open the deceiving eyes of the mind.

O how weak and helpless a man I be…


This tongue of mine; a cowardly menace,

A wounded warrior, with a bloodied sword, on a battlefield bare,

My heart, it beats, with a deafening tone,

Twisting in fright, pushing for flight, at the sign of a fight.

O how weak and helpless a man I be…


Though I may hold the reigns of Persia,

And ride the steed of Alexander,

With the golden heart of a Spartan,

Wielding the sword of Murtaza,

In the end I leave gasping empty handed.

O how weak and helpless a man I be…


I carry the weight of all my waylaid plans upon my back,

Wading knee deep through the sea of my sins,

The chains of a childhood lost, around my ankles sore,

Tricked into temptations by the traitor in my midst.

So look past my wrongs, for a mere man,

Not perfect, but weak and helpless I be…


Jawad Shah

One Response to “Poetry: How weak and helpless a man I be”

RazaDecember 28, 2013

Great poem.. Proud of you Jawad Shah..


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