Golden Soldier

As I sit and wait for the world around me to crumble,

Nothing is happening.

 

The trees aren’t grey anymore,

They’re more of an emerald hue.

 

I wonder,

Is this what everyone else sees?

 

I can’t trust myself,

All my trust goes to strangers.

 

What does that say about me?

 

Where does that leave me?

I mean, where do I want to be?

 

It’s cold here.

 

Consistency is someone I’ll never meet.

 

 

I’m going right up ahead;

No, left.

 

Both roads take us to the same destination,

In all actuality.

 

I don’t even care anymore.

Effort is sparse.

 

I shall receive this honor,

Of the highest order.

 

For navigating the wetlands of my life.

 

 

 

The fate of the devil is in his grimace

Who am I to uphold this truth?

 

I was sent from hell with a message:

Delay, delay, delay.

 

What does this mean? And if I find out…

I’ll walk that line

 

She plays with ladybugs

 

 

 

We come for the to no avail;

Paranoia, thick blood-red writing on the walls.

 

Why has the ride stopped?

We aren’t moving.

 

Knowing what I know now, I see the naivety.

 

Imposters can’t come near us,

If they’re too close, they’ll hear us.

 

How can I ever be satisfied with myself?

 

 

 

Salmon colors paint the blue sky so well.

Indifference is the only way out of anything.

 

What is this – if I’ve never felt it before?

The cries of strangers alone in the apartment.

 

I am a God… of my own will.

Which can never be taken from me.

 

Do you want it?

 

 

 

I trip over the sidewalk;

Stumble into trees.

 

Keep running, I say to myself.

As I get farther and farther away from the dullness of the past.

 

What are we all doing here?

Where are we all going?

 

I know where I’m going:

It’s blissful, playful, and unconditional.

 

The maddest of men ponder on validity.

 

 

 

The changes in seasons are unspoken.

 

My mind is twisting.

 

A roadblock up ahead;

Will I stop?

 

How do I collect what’s mine?

When what’s mine was never mine to begin with.

 

I heard that drowning is better than this;

I wonder if they’re right.

 

Below the surface,

Looking up with disbelief.

 

I see shadows and flesh.

Eyes glazed over, whimpering…

 

Tomorrow is the same day.

written by: Corey McDowell Rose