deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Isthmus: The Force That Contorts
The mountain before me
Breaks the horizon of possibility
How do I assert myself through the ages?
This is the thought that contorts me
It bends my ambition
Twists and splinters my equanimity
I'll never matter enough to offset
the pang of the human condition
I'm an ant in a colony
A node in the system
but forgotten by that system
this life has lost its great richness
What kind of existence --
Warped and broken is this
When no matter what I do
I'll never cross the isthmus?
That great expanse
That binds ancestor to self
Cut off from posterity
I've created my own Hell
Breaks the horizon of possibility
How do I assert myself through the ages?
This is the thought that contorts me
It bends my ambition
Twists and splinters my equanimity
I'll never matter enough to offset
the pang of the human condition
I'm an ant in a colony
A node in the system
but forgotten by that system
this life has lost its great richness
What kind of existence --
Warped and broken is this
When no matter what I do
I'll never cross the isthmus?
That great expanse
That binds ancestor to self
Cut off from posterity
I've created my own Hell
Published 7th Mar 2020
Author's Note
I don't fear death. I fear not being remembered. This is a poem about that.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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