deepundergroundpoetry.com
Broken Faced
A white noise could blanket the world as we fall asleep in the wake of all of our mistakes.
No matter how profusely we pray to a God with a broken face and deaf ears, nothing softens the blow of the realities that come to chase us at night, when we thought all was what it once was and we were safe.
But safe is just a shadow.
A shadow cast by standing in the wake of a sun that burns and bleaches the color and livelihood away from our lives;
lives that don't even mean as much as they were once supposed to.
not even to ourselves.
And in the wake of this sun, this burning ember flicked off the burning end of a celestial cigarette,
I will stand on the edge of the unknown, the doormat of the afterlife,
and await the courage, or maybe the cowardice, to step off.
No matter how profusely we pray to a God with a broken face and deaf ears, nothing softens the blow of the realities that come to chase us at night, when we thought all was what it once was and we were safe.
But safe is just a shadow.
A shadow cast by standing in the wake of a sun that burns and bleaches the color and livelihood away from our lives;
lives that don't even mean as much as they were once supposed to.
not even to ourselves.
And in the wake of this sun, this burning ember flicked off the burning end of a celestial cigarette,
I will stand on the edge of the unknown, the doormat of the afterlife,
and await the courage, or maybe the cowardice, to step off.
Published 3rd May 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 637
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.
18th Oct 2015 11:33pm
This is both frightening and profound. Safety is an illusion, one that's preserved for the sake of sanity. The choice between courage and cowardice could be avoided or postponed. Why hasten the inevitable?
