Poems.

Drifting Weather

Looking for salvation in times of great desperation, they reached out for the land that they knew not.  They could not recognize what it was that they sought, but for it the people struggled and fought.  For certainly there was a land of safety, a place of peace to be found in reality.  Such a location, to them, could not just be a fantasy.  It was essential that they escaped the harrowing times, for they felt that they might be losing their minds.  They were not, but the rain that was their tears fell an awful lot.  In all that was their desire, they became the victims of their own fire.  Voices of the others cracked in this storm, as great tragedy of the mundane took form.  People who lacked the notoriety, the fame, feeling as though they ran alone, each made their claim.

For some, it was society that was taking its toll.  They were torn apart, as the lightning struck into their hearts.  The force of a stranger’s manipulation broke them down with its devastation.  Living their lives in the horror of an acclaimed creation.  Doing their best not to run out of time, attempting to save every last dime.  Whatever it took to save face, to prevent themselves from being called a disgrace.  Attempting to blend in with a crowd, as long as it made their families proud.  They were surviving under circumstances that were dire, protecting themselves from the outside, even if it made them a liar.  Hiding behind a mask, so long as it accomplished the given task.  For a factor of their pride, or perhaps instead, it was because their hands were tied.  Either way, every day, they did their best to gain control, for maintaining their reputation was the main goal.  While some not only made it out alive but went on to thrive, others fell overboard with or without a dive.  Despite all efforts to be seen well, the raging ocean’s waves pulled some under with their swell.

Yet, for some, this was not the main cause of the elements, society was not the main presence.  Many suffered from skies of black, the wind whispering of sentiments for what they did lack.  Though they all had pressure holding them back, they all suffered from a variety of attack, it was for loss that they lost their track.  Fellows with which they’d been on their journey, left them to wallow in their misery.  As they walked through the streets, not acknowledging those whose eyes they’d meet.  Indeed, for some, it was the grief that betrayed them.  Some had been on the island or on their way there, but went off the map and into despair.  Houses untouched but minds affected by the landslide, their moon had vanished and left them with an aching tide.  Once with the promise of a place, there was nothing left but the images their memory could trace.  Some believed their would be another opportunity, but others were deemed separate for eternity.  Hurting and hidden within themselves, they could not be coaxed out of their protective shells.  For better or worse, their islands were coated in frost, freezing until they disappeared with what was lost.  Once more, there was only a window where there’d once been a door.

Numerous causes created the vicious onslaught, the pain that some of life’s changes brought.  Happiness seemed like something they were not meant to find, for their path was twisted by their own mind.  Living within their own perception, they were susceptible to Life’s deception.  They existed with the taste of what they’d once found, at times catching it again or hitting the ground.  Not fortunate enough to always have Glory’s crown, in its absence some were subject to drown.  Specks in the universe, most of which they could not traverse.  Time was not on their side, it could not reverse.  Instead, they all battled for a place to be, for in truth, there was no real place there to see.  Always inside, even when the water dried.  Being nowhere, as for the island they tried.  Unaware that there’d be foul weather regardless of where they’d reside.  Lost to their weather as they sought the ideal, it was then when each no-one lost the place of the real.

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So, uh, we were supposed to right a short story-story-type-deal based on a sentence prompt we got in class, and I kind of made my essay a poem. So... yeah, here's that.