Ode to My Cruel Master
I was inspired by how much my previous poem, seemed to inspire many of you, The Mighty. It got me thinking about chronic pain and it’s ability to alter our lives. I offer this poem to all the chronic pain warriors… I hear your silent screams, and I see the darkness that shrouds your everyday life
Pain is impatient, pain is cruel, and unkind.
Boasting of its grip, its reckless pride intertwined.
In its shadows, the world is reshaped, redesigned,
A constant echo, always there, unrefined.
Delighting in the shadows of evil's cast,
Pain’s truth is cruelty, stark and clear.
Attacking, betraying, fostering fear,
Its grip lingers over memories of a peaceful past.
In the depths of its ceaseless cruel dance,
Moments once joyful are stripped of their chance.
Pain lingers, persistent, in every glance,
A silent scream, a stifling expanse.
Pain’s lens, renders the body estranged,
Once a sanctuary, now forever changed.
Fear, mistrust, and memories deranged,
In its grasp, life’s many joys are rearranged.
Yet within the storm, a flicker remains,
Not of love, but of strength, unchained.
For each day faced, and every battle gained,
Is testament to the warrior’s spirit—unstrained.
The world may darken, colours slowly fade to gray,
Yet the will to endure keeps the abyss at bay.
For within the prone sufferer, light finds a way,
A beacon of hope, that pain cannot sway.
In this piercing realm of unrelenting strife,
The chronicle of pain is more than just life.
It is a testimony of resilience: to face the knife,
And finding a way within, the strength to survive.
Image: Francisco Goya, Self Portrait With his Doctor
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