avatarDr Emmanuel Ogamdi

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The Mystery of Pain

A poem

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Ladies and gentlemen, what you are about to read is an antique work of art, it’s vintage.

In 2015, I was a young and vibrant medical school student in love with writing. I also thought I was pretty good at it, so I took every opportunity I could find to scribble something down. Fiction and poetry were my playgrounds.

I felt the urge to write, but I didn’t know what to use my writings for so I piled them somewhere, not even sure if they would see the light of day someday.

Yesterday, as my mind wandered far and wide, I somehow remembered the old stash of poems that my younger self had written, 7 years ago. So, I went back in time and I found this extraordinary poem (at least in my mind) I wrote on Pain.

I have decided to share this poem because it might speak to you today. Someone out there might connect with it, and that person may be you.

Why pain?

It has a whole background to it, so much background that not only did I write a poem, but I also wrote an article on the subject. Maybe someday I’ll find the courage to publish the article.

But for now, enough writing! I’ll let you enjoy the poem in 3,2,1…

The Mystery of Pain

Oh, your bitter-sweetness To my fragile soul, you bequeath The fullness of pleasurable sickness And the elements of deep, hoarse pith

Your scourge is sour as the rays of the sun Your pits so deep within Your whip, as hard as the cactus’ thorn Pierces my being, your might to show With thongs so full of vile vim

The depths of your pit are void of light So dark and empty, and the morning never comes The days seem long and forever, and so does the fight Above me a cloud of shame you seek to form

Oh! the joy you bring to my heart at last The secret good you subtly hide from sight And then slowly you make it known to those in hell you cast To those who would from hell yearn to see your light For in this, you earn use and delight

The faint-hearted tremble at the thought of you The fearful are scared to death But to the strong, you give strength to see and do These are the ones that bless the earth

How good are the fruits of your dark acts Just like the hurt of a mother’s slap To some, you guide them off the path of harmful darts To others, you lead into darkness’ waiting clamp

Those who seek your beauty shall find Those who seek your dearth shall find For you are two-faced and yet unknown The mystery that is called pain

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Pain
Emotions
Psychology
Poem
Spirituality
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