Escape is something we all aspire to,

Knowingly or not, we all trap ourselves,

Into that endless box of strife and grief.

Grief. The one word describes all.

Righteous rage and wants denied

Seeded pasts and rage, no peace.

Peace is a word so familiar, yet so unknown,

A word, a paradox, within itself. One man’s peace

Leads to another, sudden death.

Death. Let me tell you all I know about death.

A reaper, a scythe, and things feared. Darkness and

Pain, yet also, the loving embrace of an escape.

Escape, a return to the beginning,

To the sound of laughter and gentle singing

To wings and halos and the voices of angels.

Angels, that I know about. Angels save, and hearts release.

Yet entrap and souls devour.

In a filthy carnage of a disillusioned freedom.

Freedom, that word alone inspires men,

Into reckless slaughter and bloodied hands,

Books written, on the hero’s justice.

Justice. A mockery of the mind, of things.

People choose to be right. One embraces such

Wickedness – why? To search for an escape.

Escape. So again we return, to the beginning, the middle,

And a means to an end. A conclusion you may call it,

Yet a beginning to those who dare.

by Chinelo Anyadiegwu

If you would like to submit your own poetry, personal narratives, short stories, art or photography, contact the Blueprint staff in Room N-22.


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