Stoic Relief

I see no point

In going through this maze.

It is filled to the brim with traps,

cloaked in a dulcet haze.


Must I play a part in this senselessness?

This deceit that plagues us all?

Of the flowers and gems

I am well aware,

but there's also a putrid scent

that pollutes the air.


Flesh and grime,

Blood and wine,

Invoking a cloud of toxicity in which

Drunken fools eagerly dine.


And at every turn I take,

Mobs of souls await,

Too many for a sight,

A flock of foul driven to senseless rites.


Passing by with wide eyes,

they pull at my sides,

Trying to sell me a block of gold,

forgetting both the young and old

That were indeed sold

To work off blood and bone.



A never ending path where our minds

our hearts

Are condemned to be pushed and pulled,

Twisted and stretched,

And for what?


Often have I seen you in the shadows

that these ghosts so vividly avoid.





Calm and patient.



I beseech you,

Let me join these shadows in which you humbly reside.


Spirit me away into oblivion,

Sweet obscurity!


Embrace me with your formless cloak

And quell this cacophony

That with a growing crescendo

Has made its dwelling in my bosom!


Envelope me in entirety

So that it is you and only you.

You, that consumes me.

You, that flows through my pores.



that pulls me one last time

to my final destination.



My Liberator,

My stoic relief.


Set me free.

This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741