No One is Coming

No one is coming
No one is coming
To tell me the right way to live
To take or to give
To bluff or to believe.
No is coming
To tell me when to love
Who to love, how to love
No one is coming.

No one is coming
To save me from myself
No one is coming
To erase my sins
Or applaud my sacrifices
No one is coming
To give me heaven on earth

No one is coming
Because everyone is struggling
Running, crawling, walking
In their own ways
Just like me

No one is coming

Because life begins and ends with me
Everything lays in my two hands
My sadness beside my joy,
My depressions and my altruism
My vanity amid my spirituality.

I am the creation and still the creator

No one is coming

EMM

Author’s note
It is interesting how bleak the poem may sound when what I intended was totally different. Lately, I have been pondering on what makes us human beings live like we do. What helps or makes us decide on everything. Growing up, I always looked around for someone or something to give me direction. At every turn, a parent, an institution or deity would hold my future. Perhaps I thrived in this because of the security that comes with someone else being responsible for part or all of my life. But this was childhood. Adulthood feels like a game in which one is thrust and compelled to play. Without clear instructions or checkpoints to help you confirm that you are doing what is right, living feels like floating in time with a lot of material things that we either have or feel the need to. And so we yearn to be saved from all this or liberated into a life worth living (however you interpret it). But no one is coming. The life you want is already inside of you. Open up to it’s possibility and you will have it. No one is coming.

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If you liked No One is Coming you might love BEING.
Namaste.

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