ALLEGORY Poem: Jōhatsu, by Kifayat Sayed

In this relentless chaos of the void,
where the struggle to live
becomes a harder choice,
despite the disappointment,
amidst the dissonant noise,
I still try to mend the pieces
as my world slowly destroys.

What should I call myself?
A person of perpetual failure,
or a loser mired in defeated thoughts?
Or a shadow lost in its own despair,
haunted by hope’s endless noughts.

Being stuck in these throes of absurdity,
every passing moment feels like a curse;
a boundless loop, where eventually
everything grows worse.
Do I call it hope that keeps me alive?
Or is it the responsibility and the pain
that keeps me from passing by?
Should I cling to the hope
that’s merely a disguise?
An endless futility,
where dreams compromise.

For what is life if not
an inevitable march towards the end;
where every moment seems ephemeral,
like sand slipping through our hands?
Yet, why does one choose Jōhatsu—
to efface their life’s disgrace;
eventually vanishing into the murk,
leaving without a trace?
It is not the pain but
the weight of failure they face;
the transient life that compels them –
to erase their own place.

Within this endless void, a question persists:
“Will tomorrow be better?”
I used to ask, hoping in a future fair;
a brighter life, where troubles would be rare.
Or
“Will tomorrow be any better?”
I sigh, worn out by this nightmare;
as this uncertain life
is now far beyond repair.

I’m still stuck with the ashes of my past,
which decease my burning future;
as I unfold the memories into the present,
i feel that the end is near.
Even if all this goes in vain,
What more am I left to lose?
As the more I try to know,
the less I wish to live or choose.
So there I stood watching
everything fall apart,
as life crumbles in silence
like broken glass.
And that’s when I knew,
I was never enough
And my heart, it shattered,
drowning in its bluff.

In this boundless expanse a question seeks;
• “Am I finally free?”
I asked as a kid, when I used to sprint through the open fields;
Or
• “Am I finally free?”
now i whisper as I suicide, moments before my spirit yields ⚰.