Stagnant

I think I’ll sit and wait for it to rain. I doubt much will come of it. A few dark clouds, some thunder maybe? A lake cares little, about a few drops. The gods care little for the insignificant. Yet we foolishly think lives matter. Who needs water, when clouds cry? An hollow vessel? A desert mirage? A soul is empty when the spirit dies. Homeless creatures seek solace, inside a carvern of wants. Grasping onto nothing makes loosing seems easy. Dried blood, on bended knee. Falling down only breaks bones. Strength is what defines the weak. Why get up, if crawling works just fine? To search for hope? A desire to stand on feet? To break the heart, one must break the mind. Foolishly forgetting locks have keys. Trampeling through doorways, we stumble over needs. Always searching for tomorrow, incandescent dreams. Slowly wasting time, chasing Idiolic things. Captured inside a web, spun from disbelief. Why leave the cage, when abilities have gone extinct? An chance for survival? A need to be complete? When reality shatters, it melts like broken glass. Incessant memories form illusions, casting today into the past. While seeing false perceptions, time drips into the cracks. Endlessly going nowhere, strapping burdens on our back. Like sand looped in an hourglass, always feeling trapped. A mermaid washed on shore, wrapped in fishing nets. Why chase shadows, knowing only you are left? Looking forward to tomorrow? Leaving no regrets?