The fate of the created

A poem about the link between Mortality+creativity and the conflation between sadness and genuine emotion.

Am I doomed to die the fate of the created?

crying in the lving room with a needle in my arm

my indian giving emotions, fall and overflow 

a need to be sedated

I see a lily bashed by the wind and sensitive to its harm.

Is it overexposure?

or is it  over-sensitivity that causes salt to form?

I know it creeps and glides, and soldifies into a winehouse

I know it is the rock that hovers over the woodlouse,

I know it's natures wrath, be ready to be scorned.

The kettle boils under a raging fire 

grapes are crushed underfoot to create wine

pressure is a result of innate desire

just let it go and "it'll all be fine"

Relax

unwind

let the waves drift under

the journey on the Styx is meant for all,

whether you pick up a pen or a bolt of thunder

strap on your shoes and enjoy the ball.

Reviews

[lua]

this creates such vivid imagery, interesting read

[Adam Parker]

thank you so much!