Stage of Numbness

Racing through the grassland thorns cutting my soles while the icy wind pinches this flesh. And yet I still persist-- wondering if my heart holds the key back to spontaneity ? My lust for life is withering among the black of time's cinders a burning in the distance unkown to me as I laze around a complacent world stoic, undefined by apathy-- And then, I reach the border of a railroad park to find through a hole how the sky turns red and alive. Posted 26 Jan 2019 Slap The Muse And Turn It Loose John Lawless Contest