The strings of fate had woven a tragedy. The parallel words collapse into collision. Harmony, an unwitnessed rarity, slips out of reach. Humanity, as always, falls prey to groundless hatred. The devil is in the details, they recite. Maybe, the angel will grace us with her presence, I whisper.
Dangling into motion like lifeless puppets on a string, we let our lives outlive us. I could laugh, I could cry. Nonetheless, the tears will leave my eyes as dry as trickling sand in the desert. It's not an overstatement to declare this a predictable disaster. With the way the world revolves and with the way people remain oblivious to the obvious, denial would be a futile resistance. Acceptance appears equivalent to giving up.
Ever came to the conclusion that the "right answer" may not exist? Perceptions lead us to brilliance or a pitfall of failure. If contemplation ever comforted us, it would certainly be in death. Prized possessions, whether human or abstract, render meaningless when they're buried by another grand achievement. Making the impossible possible apparently proves to be an easier task than anyone could comprehend.
My mind is in a maze, my heart is in a daze and my soul is in a haze. Rhyming my concerns merely softens the blow. Artists romanticise escapism because reality scrutinises imagination. Paper and ink have been my saviours more often than any living being. Betrayal is out of question when your companion is embellished with words you eloquently pour out in indisputable clarity. Exaggeration may be garish, but it's seldom dull. The fruits of life taste better when you've starved yourself to near death.
Appreciation, as I recall, serves no purpose if it's conveniently forgotten. The beauty of ignorance is well sought for. Knowledge stains your naivety. Sacrifice your freedom for the pursuit of worldly desires. Disregard gratitude like a speck of dust lost in the summer breeze. Seek for validation from strangers, hardly making up for reconciliation with family. Choose these alternatives instinctively and beware if someone steals something so addictive, your demons awaken vindictive.
Searching for a conclusion amidst this scattered chaos is a fool's errand. Deriving pleasure from being a spectator is a forbidden fruit. Seething with venomous agony when you helplessly give in to your fate is a universal truth. Jaded ambitions do little to save you from complacency. Embrace the godforsaken spirit and realise your sole purpose. The key to a broken door is to rebuild. Revive.
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Author:
Bliss (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 3rd, 2024 12:06
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this in a stream of consciousness, to be honest. So, it sort of wrote itself in a way. It talks about destruction presenting an opportunity for creation. Meaning of the prose poem 🤍 Fate (if you believe in it) decides everything that goes on in our lives from beginning to end. Fate causes tragedies. People clash. Some people turn to pessimism while others (like myself) turn to optimism. Sometimes, fate control us like we're puppets putting on a show. I feel indifferent because of its predictability. Neither denial nor acceptance seems right. There is no "right answer". It's all a matter of perception. Merely pondering about things without taking action is a waste of time. All of our possessions don't hold any meaning if they're covered up by another achievement, making it seem like it's an easy task. I, as an artist, turn towards writing in times of despair. It's a peaceful diversion which helps me sort my thoughts. Such simple luxuries of life feel better when they're enjoyed in the most difficult times. People forget to appreciate. Ignorance is more desired than knowledge. These days, freedom, gratitude and family are thrown away while validation from strangers is put first. We let our inner demons conquer us by giving into our negative instincts. Forget about conclusions, witnessing the chaos unfold and the agony of it all. Go with the flow and venture on a journey of self-discovery. If the door is broken, the only key is to build it again. That's how you revive what's dying. Feels good to be back after so longggg😌 I won't take a 7 month long break again 💀 I missed writing so much😭 I'll post more often to make up for the lost days (*months, to be honest 💀💀). If you guys can relate to my prose poem, then share it with your friends & loved ones
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 7
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Comments1
Beautiful! 🙏
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