Like Wingless Birds
I can tell you about the elongated nights.
The pain and agony endured to the soul.
The hammer of reality that aims to chisel at my pride
until it resembles a statue of anguish and defeat.
The way time and precious seconds taunt you
when you have hopes of moving forward with life.
Its inconsiderable essence.
The way moments vanish like atheistic faith.
During times of distinct disparity
its motion reflects that of a shelled gastropod,
and in the midst of joyous occasion,
time flows like raging waters.
Waving those moments into occipital entrapment.
I can tell you the feeling of watching all the things
you love in life pass by like highway signs.
Life drawing me in to intersections
while I'm chasing hope like a runaway freight train.
Stopping me at red lights while
opportunity makes every green light
with time to spare.
The feeling of being a puppet
at every whim of a deviant puppeteer.
And every day and night is show time.
I can tell you about the tears I never shed
as they flood my mind with thoughts of guilt
and overwhelming sorrow.
The moments I lacked sympathy
and empathy at moments when short phrases
and warm gestures needed implementation.
Neglected communications as if I were aphasic.
A shy man of few words cursed
with a heart that speaks volumes.
Sadly guilty of making bad decisions
and acting maliciously when all I had were good intentions.
I can tell you about the memories that haunt my mind
like vivid pictures on a slide show on repeat.
The unified heartbeat that once fluttered
like angel wings have ceased.
And have been buried beneath the soil
where our love first began to grow.
But the constant battles in this war of love between us
has degraded the soil,
inhibiting the possibility of our lost love
from sprouting from the roots ever again.
I can tell you about the essence of
moonless nights and starless skies.
The sensation of being engulfed in a tunnel of darkness
and the only light source stems from an exit miles away.
The despair sometimes feels like I'm gasping for air
while submerged in the heart of the Artic.
Or thirsting for freedom
while journeying through the Amazon.
The sure tangibility of dreams like a mirage.
No boundless heights to strive for
at the core of my eclipsed surroundings.
The epitome of the world seen
through the eyes of a wingless bird.
Trying to emulate the gracious flight of Heaven's angels,
but sometimes the world can be cruel.
Copyright © m.n.i.w m.n.i.w | Year Posted 2015
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