Surrender

I want to know
if you feel despair
the way I feel -
to be laid down
on a bed of needles,
not knowing anymore
which one pricks
and where,
and yet to not look away
from the distant stars
that watch over you
through the dark cover
of a terrifying night;

not because
you are too scared
to open
your night-blind eyes,
but because
there is no other place
where your parched eyes
can wander to -

weary eyes
that don't know anymore
what to cry for and how,
for life has sucked out
their light
and your marrow;
because
there is no other place
where they can wander
to soak in hope
and fill up with joy,

they have nowhere to go
but to stare at and pierce
the growing darkness
that chokes you in its vise;
and in that swamp
of deep despair
and impending defeat,
with no place to go,
and nowhere to hide,
your eyes will find
at last,
those tiny pin-pricks
of flickering light -
distant yet near,
quivering yet bright.

for I have seen
and I have felt
and I have heard
a quiet rose of surrender
flower
only amidst
thorns
of despair.