There’s always been
Fear
Here—
A globe of glass
Flooded—
Speckles
That shimmer and sparkle,
That glimmer and drift,
That flutter and sway,
But never
Away—
They stay.
Fears.
Here.
The globe is
All-
Encompassing—
We’re miniature snow figurines
Destined to be shaken,
To repeat this endless routine
Of beauty and excitement,
Of fading hopes,
Dying dreams—
Death falls
Magnificent.
Anticipation
Of antipathy
Knots itself inside
The pitted innards
Of acrimonious animosity
Toward the bastard children
Of willfully ignorant expressions.
Their fears—
Ever
Here.
Packed within
The crystalline globe
Together—
In the globe,
Continuously confined—
To be imprisoned impotents
In permanent poses,
Stuck
Here
In fear.
© 2024 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: October 12th, 2024 08:27
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
Can we pinpoint just what, or who, are the basis of our fear, or fears? That's surely some step, or steps, to overcoming them.
It seems to me, it's like each time that snow globe is shaken, the fears shake up, are fluttered, etc, to agitate, disturb, cause us to be anxious.
We're getting psychological now!
Deep! 🤯 And you absolutely hit the nail on the head of what I was trying to convey in this poem. Truly, we are getting psychological! LOL! Thank you for reading and for your insightful thoughts.
Now that's a long word for both of us, this time of day! Have our brain cells woken up yet? - that psychological word. lol
LOL!
Why must I (always? I hope not) say something sensible, then follow up with some daft, crass, or nonsensical comment? heehee.
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