The tick never slows,
even when our hearts do
painfully still, yet it keeps slipping
away from our grasps
The unchanged chains straining our feet
trapping us into the very reality-
that we run from.
How long will this chase last?
Sprinting past the chances we get,
fearing the unknown,
kept in the dark for too long.
Even the grave mocks us all.
With the return so certain,
why do we all still run?
Fearing the looming darkness of being under?
Or trying to extend the time left?
Even though no one knows when this will ever end.
We run the fooliaminy with our cowardice
scampering in time unknown
thinking we can lighten the impact
all the while coarsening our doom.
the fate so rigid yet our life so lewd
the realm collapses after you build it up high
the shattered fantasies that we chase
claws at our feet to bring us under
it's illusory visage stared vague
craving the engaging flower
and loathing it's dregs
would do anything for the conduct
yet never once face it's consequences
fell head-first for the fool's gold
dimming your life with it's shimmer
million-dollar smiles adorn
their worthless hearts
the price tag never drags out their time
why do we all still run?
if we leave herein empty handed
the capricious twist of fate never stops goading
until we let go and admit our trespasses
because in the end
all we'll have is what's left
beneath the façade of our hautiness
~si
YOU ARE READING
Silhouette
PoetryM O N A C H O P S I S the persistent feeling that you're out of place or don't belong. A collection of poems.
