Left Behind, Poor Are The Poor) An Internal Monologue.

A constant barrage of harrowing taunts ever bombard the

peace of my upper room, fiery darts having left the bow

of torments make easy pickings of a delicate wayward

whipper snapper, and a drop in the ocean, powerless,

it's motion controlled by the strong current of the mighty

sea, but what is a person to do in a world where he/ she

is invisible (...) shake their fist and tell the sea close your

eyes to the moon and your ears to the wind and be not a 

sea any more; oh how silly a thought. An ocean drop as 

useful as a hurricane in harvest time hardly the hero of 

the masses and the mighty sea with it's ever increasing

rule over the global populous it's powerful current the

system in which the globe is governed.  Concerned as

for a loved one should every petal be for each other in

the blossomed rose, laid waist a midst the tortuous and

deceptive bed of thorns, thus, a prison created and

given life by the unwavering powerful movement.

But what does a person do ? Does a leaf command

the wind and lay order it's steps, does a flock lead 

it's shepherd and give guide too his path, I think not,

however, answers sought fiercely remain obscure in

the shadows and helpless is the state of my being!  

I hear laughter songs of torment, a thousand cuts

the lyrics carve my skin. loudly scoffing, blatant in

arrogance haughty as the piper they play to invoke

the reaper. From among the thorns lay slain to

the sea, the petals of the blossomed rose, having

succumb to the Current and it's power. A mind

tormented, not strong enough to swim against

the current, how much more powerless can I be.

I wonder, are we to be left behind, in this ever

changing world  (...)  "oh how my heart bleeds...

"Poor are the poor!"  But what is a person to do?  

What is a person to do.

Author's Note

Note Metaphors:
Upper Room: Head
Sea: The World
The Mighty Current: The World System
Petal: A single person
Blossomed Rose: General Public