Home » Charts » Poetry » Ride with Panic

Ride with Panic

God has granted me with free will, so would it be blasphemy if sometimes I can't use it? Because, yes, sometimes I can't. Panic wants to ride. Then we ride. We ride fast, side to side, no speed limit. It already took the wheel,im blind and deaf even if I can still hear how strong it is. How strong it attacks me by sending those things I've buried, those demons I've builded plus things that won't ever happen. How am I supposed to stop or take the control when my heart became a heavy piece of iron, as fire is racing in every vein. This ride finally stops when I can see the first ray of sun, then I can breath fresh air, slowly it stops... Finally I can see the yellow house with the wooden door... This house saw me grow up, I'm here in Happy Place.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related entries

Because Angels Are In White…

The poem is on Doctors who were heroes to us in the time of Covid-19

The Book is Being Written

How we observe and how we reflect.

The Dreary Faceless

The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.

The Model House

The facades of a perfect home.

The Woman Who

This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.