| » Poem: Metaphor To Life |
Metaphor To Life
written by CemetaryDrive11:49 PM 12/24/04For me, the phrase, life sucks does not even come close to my real emotions.
My life is a dark, scary, bottomless depth of water and no one will come in. I was sucked beneath the surface, where no light can be seen, yet joy can be heard. No touch of warmth can be felt, just swirls and waves of cold. Every morning my mind hopes something is there, but my eyes only peer into the same clear, yet dark water that were there the previous night. Soon I have lost my rhythmical pattern of day and night, now it is just one awakening to the next.
My water is not murky or cloudy, just dreary and desolate. The mystery of what is coming next is no longer present for me. I know that when i next awake, my only escaping of the loneliness that engulfs me is that of watching other fish that swim near the surface and edge of my pool. I swim towards them, yet an equal distance we stay from each other. The more I long and lust to be with them, the closer they seem, and the more infuriated I become when I can not reach them. My dreams each day are to have something to look forward to, but everything is out of my grasp. There is no mystery in my life, just the mystery OF life.
Why can i hear and even in vision that of others socializing happily on a white sand shoreline with foam encrusted waves, yet I come back and realize what MY reality is. I'm only in the same dark waters. So much do I desire a riddle or mystery in life to draw my dazed thoughts away from life itself.
I can not near the surface or shores, yet I can not descend into the shadows and hide. Day after day, the same questions swim pointlessly around in my head as I swim pointlessly around my pool of icy water.
My ingenious ideas to finally taste and see through crisp clear water is destroyed when I always remember that it is out of my reach. So once again I awake and gaze around my surroundings, looking for change, yet I taste the same warm water and see the same thing everyday, which is nothing, I think about why I am the fish singled out to be alone.
So day after day, year after year, I keep this routine in my endless depths of water. Soon though, one must realize that this pool of water is my eyes, and the conflict fought is my soul. For one can always see into another souled by peering into their eyes. But i wouldn't know if it were true, for whose eyes do I peer into but my own? |
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