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Jahleel Drigo
Jahleel Drigo
May 25, 2010 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

Confession

Dead long
Rotten to the core
Life without joy; a burden to endure

Wealthy in experiences
In pain, soo much more,
I have to find joy
Or i'll die poor

I've searched along the eastern shore,
Searched untill my feet are sore
I'll rest a while
Shurely joy'll come knocking on the door...

Joy I never saw
and I died next to that door
I won neither the battle nor the war.

I despise the light,
I love the darkness more
— Jahleel Drigo, May 25, 2010

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: VIR

Favorite Poets: “Withdraw into yourself and look. And if you do not find yourself beautiful yet, act as does the creator of a statue that is to be made beautiful: he cuts away here, he smoothes there, he makes this line lighter, this other purer, until a lovely face has grown upon his work. So do you also: cut away all that is excessive, straighten all that is crooked, bring light to all that is overcast, labour to make all one glow of beauty and never cease chiselling your statue, until there shall shine out on you from it the godlike splendour of virtue, until you shall see the perfect goodness surely established in the stainless shrine... Never did eye see the sun unless it had first become sunlike, and never can the soul have vision of the First Beauty unless itself be beautiful.”, Plotinus, The Enneads

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