The Taste of Ambrosia

Drama, drama, always... I hate the game we play, but play we must.

Have you ever wanted something so badly that every second you didn’t have it was like another icy blade in your heart?  Something that haunts your dreams, vivid and powerful, so much so that you weep when you awaken to find that it had still evaded your grasp? 

I have.

I can see it, hear it, taste it every second of every hour of every day.

I dream about it, see it in my head, convince myself that it is true…

But it isn’t.

I have gotten to the point where it is almost like visions over which I can exercise no control, when my eyes glaze over and, like a film that had been waiting to play, I watch.  A spectator in my own miserable fantasies.

I see it, even now, and my heart, riddled with frozen puncture wounds, begins to beat faster and faster…

Like the Mirror of Erised, I surely am going mad before it, teased and taunted cruelly by my own desires, my own subconscious.

 And so I sit in a ray of moonlight and weep.

I pray to God, to Buddha, to Allah, to anyone who might listen…

Please, make it stop.

Give me something, anything, give me some release, some relief from this nightmarish imprisonment within my own mind.

But no one ever answers.

So I sit in my ray of moonlight, picking shards of ice from my heart, and wonder why.

And how.

How is it that something so wonderful can manage to cause such unendurable pain?  How can I still want it, need it, like food or drink?

But I know the answer.

I know that, in some dim faraway land of happiness, it would be worth it.  It would be the sweetest ambrosia nectar ever sipped by the lips of mortals or of gods, the most beautiful picture ever painted by human hands.

And as long as I know this to be true, I cannot let go of this dream, of this hope, of this wish.

Of you.

 

 

But the taste of ambrosia is only almost as sweet as the dream of ambrosia is bitter.

So as long as I dream of it, there will be only a bitter taste in my mouth of what could have been.

 

Author's Note

Please, please, please review the crap out of my work. I want to improve my writing, which can only be done by learning of my mistakes from lovely people such as yourselves. Thanks!

Reviews

[blueeyedangel]

I loved your descriptive writing. I get the whole point that you are trying to send out, apparently you want someone-or something, that you are unable to reach. You had awesome figurative language in this. The only thing that I would change about it, is to make it more like a poem. You have it sort of in story mode. Poems are more like, feelings being expressed, without trifil words, like of, the and and. My revisions would look something like this

"Like the Mirror of Erised, I surely am going mad before it, teased and taunted cruelly by my own desires, my own subconscious.

And so I sit in a ray of moonlight and weep.

I pray to God, to Buddha, to Allah, to anyone who might listen�

Please, make it stop."

Self desires, being of subconscious mind;
taunting, teasing me
making me go mad before the Mirror of Erised
A single slither of moonlight
illuminating only me
cries a symphony of sorrow
as I weep beneath it
any god, who wishes to bear my cross,
who will listen to my prayer
I'll send it out
Please make it stop

Those are just my revisions, of my favorite line=]]
I really liked this thouglh
You have a super lot of potential in writing, I think you would be a phenominal writer
You have great views, also, to think of things even I wouldn't think of.
If you have any more work, please send it to me, because I would love to read more writing from you.
Great job, and keep up the good work=] Welcome to writer's cafe