on this day, the Year of our Lord 2017, the 8th day of a month with no meaning
even after all this time here on this planet, I can still feel the deepdark sticky-icky clinging to my skin and mucking up my soul
truths untold. pure lies unfold.
unfolding on a tapestry made of the hair follicles falling from my head from stresses that need not to exist
i guess you could say i’m pissed
Anger, an emotion so powerful, it’s hard to resist
but to admit that such an emotion is necessary goes against every lesson i’ve been taught since birth
on days like this, i wish The Sun would shine, so bright it’d make me color blind
but the grey overcast skies offers little more than the hope that Our Lord will cry and rain down upon us, upon me
i’d stand in the downpour, wearing whatever fragments of cloth i happen to be wearing at the time, face up
the Holy Liquid dripping and flowing over my face, blinding me in a way-
not color blind
but leaving me, us, caught in time
human eyes closed, 3rd eye open, seeing things beyond…
ah but alas. on this day, i see no calmness from The Sun nor The Water
in times like this, it is unfair to expect Mother Nature to give us everything needed at any given moment. She is busy, extremely overworked; and if recent events plaguing the U.S. and the rest of the world is any indication, she’s fed up and tired.
can’t say i blame her.
its time that i, we, make our own Holy Liquid to purify that deepdark sticky-icky
that affects us all, whether or not you’re aware of it
like a stranger in moscow, i’m still trying. trying to figure out how to break this curse mankind has created for itself. Mother Nature may have the answers, but we, mortals, don’t stand a chance of what’s to come.
we find our own way of purification. somehow i, We, have to get Mother Nature to trust us again.
if i could i would give you the answers
but all i can do
is just offer you
to come bathe with me
Daily prompt: Crescendo