Vanishing Point
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written for "Vanishing Point" sponsored by Dilly Dally.
This prompt made me think of how ....Sometimes when overwhelemed with uncertainties , of not being heard, and seen amidst all , and what lies ahead remains a mystery, we choose to isolate ourselves, choose the familiar... whether good or bad. Letting go is easier than pursuing... the challenging... Sorry for rambling! Lol
i will be reading back your poems shortly, i do appreciate all the support thank you all
When the sky mimics an illusory highway,
camouflaged in colors of confusion,
crowded with contrasts of chaos,
I stand stranded at the crossroads,
draped in distorted resolutions,
soaked in pixelated perspectives,
overwhelmed on the verge of vertigo.
For I’m tired of counting syllables
to weave mismatched metaphors
that lead into pulsating pages
of monochrome memories,
flowing in r e v e r s e
like redundant riddles.
I’m drained from tip-toeing
along cobalt side-lines,
aching to be seen,
longing to be heard~
amidst the silence and composure.
But will the eyes of anemic ink
ever feel the unwritten truth?
Their ignorance sees not
beyond blurred beams of
b l a c k and w h i t e ….
I’ve long been steering the wheels
of star-crossed fate,
oblivious to the terrors
that float beyond the twinkling horizon,
where the jaded jewels
of midnight burn,
when dreams decay
and love lingers~
as lost sentiments between
the acrobatic edges of waning sunsets.
Riding into nothingness
seems more comforting
than the slippery slopes carved
by ruthless reality,
as deepest scars remain unseen
in crippling crevices of
crashing emotions,
while uncertainties are
the constant gravity grounding me
into the bricks and bones
of h e a l i n g ….
Maybe this is the essence
of breathing restlessly,
as tales of meaningless moments
sound more mellifluous,
and chronicles of unnamed boulevards
seem more inviting,
when everything and anything that
moves in slow cadence
becomes a bleeding trigger.
Yet to be held and embraced
within frames of fear
is where this pilgrimage
of pillow-shaped promises
shall finally conclude,
and I wish,
maybe somewhere down
the vanishing point of the
demented lane,
blooming with shared dandelion rhymes,
there, crystalline constellations
would turn skeptical galaxies
into raining diamonds,
to shawl you in amorous auroras
when coldness seeps in.
And with or without me,
if I were a beloved enigma,
I hope your prolific pen
will still remember
the silhouettes of soulmates,
to sketch within the ardent graph
of cosmic connection,
where sonnets of your soul~
will echo this immortal romance.
Copyright © Ink Empress | Year Posted 2024
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