The Walk
He came from foreign lands to seek it. Like a leather clad, sunglass wearing, Russian spy, he sought it out. Where was it? Where was it hidden? Stowed away, locked up, safe, she replied, as she timidly led him down the pathway.
They passed through many rooms, down many hallways, in search of it. Locked box after locked box, she opened, she teased, the light blindingly vivid at first but dimming quite fast. As the light faded to darkness, she would close it and move on. On to the next room, the next box, each one possessing a renewed hope. The lights of the hallway growing brighter and brighter, we must be getting close, he thought, each vault the seemingly perfect hideaway.
She continued the walk, he continued to follow. He was entrenched now and he knew it, caught in the web, but he continued on. She was in full control. She could choose to reveal it or she could keep it for herself. All he could do was follow, hope, wait.
The growing look of uncertainty slowly creeping in, he began to question it's existence, maybe she even did too. Was she lost herself or just leading him on? Is this even the correct path? Could it be recovered at all? Just some of the questions that began to mount.
Maybe they had passed it, maybe it was all a ruse, maybe it didn't exist. If it wasn't for the hunger, he might've given up much sooner but this was a hunger like never before. He wanted it. This time, maybe, he needed it. So, he held hope. He had come all this way, he was in too deep now.
They continued the walk. Pit pat, pit pat, pit pat, the sound of echoing feet through the chamber. With each passing room the anticipation grew. We have to be close, it has to be here, it all looked so promising.
If it was hidden, it was here. If it existed, she was the possessor. He followed. Like a zombie in full trance, he followed. Where was it? Was it here? Had he been fooled? She must've been stone cold to keep it hidden this long, to keep it locked away. Show it to me, he thought to himself. Show it to me now! But, there was nothing, she wouldn't expose it, it was all in vane. It was hers to keep, stowed away, protected. Hidden from him, hidden from the world. The cost too great, the risk too high. She would keep it for herself. Hidden, locked up, protected.... Safe.
Copyright © Mack Bonner | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment