The corner of my eye feels damp
A wiry stream of salt finds its way down my flushed contours
Swiftly burgeoning into a deluge
Blessing my parched lips with the brackish, eerily familiar fluid
And I stand still, rooted to the ground
Unable to contain myself
Like a puppet in the hands of fate
Like wet clay in the hands of the Divine!
Solace I find in poetry
The likes of Thoreau & Tennyson make me wanna give life one more shot
The last jump…the last fall
My muscles twitch…my hands tremble
My wobbly legs threaten to give away
But the unflinching alter ego comes alive
Did you just try and walk off the edge like a lemming?
Arent you destined to live beyond a life of quiet desperation?
The world is your oyster
Wait till it comes alive
Hang on for that extra mile
O me, O life!
O Captain, My Captain!!