I used to be predator, wanting to save prey.
Recognizing my own rescuing personality in them.
Understanding their sorrow, which they cover up with mirth.
I could see the light in their eyes was diminishing.
Their soul was no longer their own.
I wanted to save them from their predator, usually a narcissist.
Of course, it was futile.
A narcissist is ruthless.
They see us as objects, dehumanize us.
I used to be a predator.
I expanded all kinds of energy.
Trying to rescue others
because I had once upon a time rescued myself
being a natural prey.
Solo bird
Strayed in the
Ocean sky,
Prayed.
Heaven sent
Vulture,
Appeared for rescue.
Date of Entry : 24-09-2020
Contest : Paint A Picture - 7 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsor : Joseph May
finding a depth in the
vulnerable person
standing before him---
a hole he feels needs filling
by someone compassionate,
by someone who would just
listen,
he moves closer to her &
offers his hand in help,
he offers his heart in hope that
what he feels to be his own
deficiencies & idiosyncrasies,
will somehow mesh with hers
as if the rescue itself would ensure it---
and for a while her surrender is one
that creates a new place for the both of them,
a context that neither of them needs
in order to promote personal growth &
independence---
nevertheless, the codependence that has
bloomed,
eats at the both of them,
if for any better reason than that they are no longer
the vulnerable individuals that they once were &
because the present situation has become
frustrating at best,
sleepless, paranoid eyes
begin to look around for blame,
inevitably taking them both back to
the moment when the rescue
began.
loosened by his near fatal misstep,
rocks, stones and gravel
plummet into the chasm with
deathly finality,
into what seems to be the very
maw of eternity;
with the thinnest thread of hope,
he seeks the faintest signs
from vultures hovering, gliding slow,
spiralling down,
their shadows on the precipitous
sides of the canyon;
it dawns on him that when the earth
finally claims its own,
one just has to let go, be he
a creature proud or low,
in life, nothing's lost or wasted,
dying's just time to go!
Waiting for a Rescuer,
to come and Rescue me,
Waithing in the highest tower to come and set me free.
Riding on a white horse sword raised and all,
My Rescuer who comes to me when ever I call.
But he got caught up and had other things to do,
I guess my Rescuer has moved on to somthing new.
No one comes when I call no one hears me when I yell,
and now my cozy high tower is turning into a jail.
Someday I'll see my Rescuer and he will come to me,
He'll save me from the highest tower,
He'll come a Rescue me.
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