I am standing on a hill waiting for the sun to rise.
I wait for a while...but it's like the spotlight which had been turned on my entire life, has been turned off.
And I've been struggling my way through the darkness, blind and afraid, just praying for someone to save me.
There are certain moments when I see a flicker in the distance and every time I try to get closer, it moves further away.
And I am stuck.
I'm stuck in a territorial stage between two opposing forces.
Both equal in reason yet different in size.
Despite knowing which force is morally correct, I cannot pick this side without feeling guilty for not choosing the side I know.
And the battle commences.
We are all blind.
We cannot see reason within the broken pride and we all fail to settle our dispute.
I am once again at fault for not flipping on the switch.
And putting all descriptive words aside, I feel shitty.
I opened one book, wrote my story, yet ended it in another.
Splitting my tale into two contrasting acts, each with character flaws, and each without proper representation.
And for someone who has always had a way with words, I cannot find any.
I've been blocked off.
Hidden my vulnerability.
And I have damaged what made me happy.
I guess in a world which knows no silence I have never been this quiet.
I have tried to eradicate this feud but the neutral ground I stand on is slipping away and in a matter of 35 seconds, I have picked which battle to fight.
I have put up my walls and my stride is full of doubt, yet I stand in this field ready for the attack.
The trees stink of whispers and before I truly understand this ruse, I've been shot.
And as if this action was preordained I feel every ounce of joy burst out of my body and I lie in my own puddle of despair.
Because I know I was wrong.
And while I'm lying on the ground bleeding out, I realize I was at fault.
I took the 'em' out of 'empathetic' and I was the fallen soldier who started the war.
YOU ARE READING
The Truth Embarks a New Beginning
PoetryWhen you feel like there's no way out, life laughs and toys with your pain. But, when pain is built on top of pain, the doors of mockery close, and you can walk out into the world, with a newfound understanding and acceptance of what shit you have o...
