Long ago I built a dam to hold my sea of thoughts, a barrier to house the words that tears brought.
Crafted with timber knowing damn well, wood rots
An artificial basin formed in my mind, revealing only the rocks left behind
As time passed leaks sprung, patched by me before the salty air could ever reach my tongue
Through many redirections, what was once a lively forrest
Now lay dry and baron
For several years that dam remained in place
my source of life, allowing myself just a taste.
One day I grazed, seeing my reflection in that water I did not recognize my own face
And In that moment all of those timbers violently gave way.
So helpless I felt, bashed wave by wave
Forced to explore the depths of my brain
An ant stuck in a forever hurricane.
After what seemed like a hundred years, I finally heard the birds chirp and suddenly everything was still.
What once was a dry wasteland, now full of life
Water coursing through my veins with the mightiest of might
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Author:
Caveman (
Offline) - Published: September 18th, 2026 08:06
- Category: Short story
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Tristan Robert Lange, Wanda Hart
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Comments4
Good story
Yes, sometimes we just have to wait, and although it seems an eternity all is good in the end.
A lovely metaphor that speaks to thoughts held back and the force of a rupture in the dam that leaves one peaceful and calm in the end.
That “ant stuck in a forever hurricane” image is wild, Caveman...I keep thinking about it...an image not soon to be forgotten. Engaging peice. my friend, as always.🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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