The Sky's Promise

The sun.

 

They say it gives promise.

It gives you a new day.

Time you can invest in,

devoting it to whatever you want.

 

You wake, wake to the crow of the c**k,

and you perform your actions as normal.

You look forward to new time, new events,

new friends, and new accomplishments.

 

The day grants you opportunity.

It gives you the chance to see your dreams,

and make them real. You can see all of life

in motion the moment you open your eyes.

 

While some of these things are true,

the rest is simply a rancid worm that lures

my ravenous mouth. My life is still,

no motion or emotion behind it anymore.

 

Promises turn into lies, all of my time, borrowed.

Opportunity runs scarce in my veins,

I become the puppet of their cruel comedies,

forced to be the subject of ridicule.

 

Forced to be judged by impluse, to lose

and to be defeated. Nothing in my eyes

hold fruit to the future anymore. My body,

ravaged by strangers I tried to keep to my circle.

 

Seeing all this, I wonder if it's worth waking up

anymore. My life is static, thrown by titans

of misery. The acrid aroma of depression

kicks my mind out of bed, giving it 300 lashes.

 

I wonder if it's worth waking up anymore,

seeing this tormenting, repetitive pattern of depression.

The sun is my darkness, giving me promise and peace,

and eats me in fire and heat.

 

At least, with the change of the sky,

I am given one promise, fulfilled every time.

With the change of the sky,

I am given one opportunity: to sleep and dream and live in dream within...

 

The night.

Reviews

[Robbie~xoxo~]

Such sadness in this... I felt the depression creeping along as I read. You're words created a vision of time passing as it eats away the spirit, and yet, the end has promise of a new day... a least that's how I want to view it. Great work!