Comfort in Fiction

I was told to seek adventure in reality,

To close my books and turn off my television.

I ought to go outside and start walking.

It was a book that so advised me.

In obedience, I set aside my novel.

What adventures were there in my living room?

What monsters lurked beneath my bed,

Waiting to be confronted and defeated?

An hour at lecture, three hours at work,

The rest of the night preparing for another day.

Within this monotony a dark presence loomed,

Creeping closer to my feet tucked under the quilt.

Ah, my old enemy.

But how can I fight Loneliness?

I have tried friendships and families.

I begged God for relief.

Sometimes I pretend it is not there,

Because I am fine.

Really,

I'm fine.

Loneliness is not a dragon;

It cannot be slain, and

It will not die and stay dead.

I may wound it, and send it running,

But Loneliness always returns.

I have fought this slow war

For too many years.

Forgive me for opening my book again;

Within its pages evil is vanquished,

And battles are never repeated.

Please, let me find comfort

In the pages of my book.

Reviews

[DeCipher]

Love this! Again something of yours that I see in my own life.