Nameless

Nameless by Nicola Manning

I know who I am. I know what I am.

Yet I cannot find my identity.

Lost.

Missing.

Voided.

Floating in                                    Abyss.

I think…

Maybe…

I possessed it at an earlier age

But to where I may have placed it,

I am lost…

In the backward motion of life,

Was that my only opportunity?

As I gaze through the pane glass window

At the life I once led,

Is the torture of striving for what once was,

A punishment … ?

Or a warning … ?

… For what I have become … ?

… Or for who I have become?

If

I have missed my only hope

Then I am blinded.

I cannot see

Without an Identity.

© 2013 Nicola Manning - Ironic Inspirations
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