Jin Yu

You Who Knows One Truth

The driven, who know no bounds,

Are reassured by the ground beneath them.

Reminders of the beginning,

Visions of opportunities.

The prodigy too, who knows the praises

Of their younger years,

Is comforted by the solid ground.

Not from a sense of security,

But by the notion they can fall no further.

Search for an angel and

You find wings unfurled,

A soft glow that erases the darkest of

Nights. Benevolence that graces

Even the worst of sinners.

Then, are you a sinner? The

Unredeemable. Untouched by even

Providence despite your prayers,

Yet motivated by selfishness, you

Expect answers from the otherworldly.

Seeking an outlet for your resentment,

You pin it on your circumstances, blind

To a habit of self-loathing.

Scales tip to measure your worth,

Achingly watching every subtle movement,

Blowing in the direction contradictory to

Guiding winds, the ones meant to lead you

Home. But where is home? Your memory

Fails you, remembering a house in its place.

You pull up seedlings for them to

Grow faster, ignoring the pleas of the

Farmers. What came easily once

Will come again, you think to yourself.

But the heart bleeds red, even when your

Reflection becomes foreign.

When you return, the crops have wilted.

Roots overturned, crawling up your limbs,

Sprouting out of your ears, blossoming from

The lungs. You suffocate under the weight

Of your decisions, rendered mute by

Foliage you cursed the night before.

So you pull them out again, blaming the

Soil and finding fault in the farmers you

Disregarded. Yet flowers still bloom in your

Memory, a headstone far from grand.