the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 96 – This is No Fantasy

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In this seemingly disgusting world – plagued by unreliability, constant darkness (partially lit by artificial suns), infestations of unwanted and avoided demons, unattractive peasant hands and stares – we are greeted by many wonders…

We see:
Rolling hills of faded blue
Cliffs of blood orange and burnt yellow
Mountainsides stained with slime and deterioration
Floods of footsteps that leave traces of unspeakable crimes
Rarely do rays of light pass through the glass-like clouds
Still, silver towers reach toward the gloomy heavens above

And in the skies we see signs left by invisible gods
Telling us what to do
And what not to do
They portray and lay out rules that are never truly enforced
Yet, through thunderous rumbles
We are given a specific course
We are instructed on where we must go

And in this world
We are pulled and shaken
And through time, we are taken
Automatically, we move through the almost forgotten chaos

Yet we transform together, as an orchestrated ensemble
Where one must conform to the adrenaline and speed
We are invited to meet infatuation and romance
And by chance
We are taught to waltz with strangers

However, we leave this world often
But return several times, many times
For we anticipate our cherished minutes waiting
Until we must meet with this world again

Yet we reenter only when
We remember to smile to somewhat familiar faces
For we are introduced to hundreds for the first time
And speak only with body language, rhythm and rhyme
Using aversions and diversions,
Allowing us to touch once or twice

And beautifully enough,
We come across couples and lovers
Who share tender kisses and sweet embraces
And joyful children slyly test surrounding adults
Who forcefully keep patience written on their faces
All attention is focused on each individual mother
Who caresses the sobbing sweethearts
And independent souls, they carry with them:
Everything they need to survive
And the elderly shuffle through the crowds with determination
Often cursing the youth with damnation
Thus, we see that with the absence of light,
Our kind can honestly stay alive

While this land often cries in pain
It also announces a slow arrival into bliss
For in this strange place
Many are united
And often invited
To thrive as a singular race

We breathe together
And every so often, courtesy is contrived
Chivalry is revived
And we are challenged to an occasional duel
Thus we learn how to balance being caring and cruel
And how to sustain tradition and renewal

And as we toil just to dream
In hopes of purifying our sins
We cover ourselves in stress
And drench our bodies in sweat
And as we march safely home
We realize it’s the darkness that we forget.

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