Drifting
Poem
I’m drifting.
Roaming this earth,
Limping with an ache for purpose since birth.
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Drifting.
Lost is me at the wake of each morning,
Engulfed in the deafening silence
Of an empty life.
Wasting away this life that is only one.
What’s the meaning of life
When basking in the glory
Of trivial victories is the pinnacle?
Ten years feeling like two.
Strings of things and people I love,
Thinning and thinning till it snaps
And it’s just me left wondering;
What's the meaning of life?
Life is beautiful, cruel, cold, bitter but sweet.
Life is fleeting, that I am aware
But how do I learn to truly live
When there’s nothing to compare?
If I start to die when I’m born,
Then when do I live?
I keep running this static marathon,
Barefoot on the charred carcass
Of others who once lived.
Pressure piercing through my knees
With each aching stride.
The wind, stretching my flesh
Into wrinkled skin.
My body scorching from the burning of
That promised “sun” after the storm.
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People on tracks around me
Dropping like flies.
Drifting like a blind man
Against this thing we don’t see time.
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Time and time again, lonely.
Not sure how far down this finishing line is,
Or if there even is one.
This surely can’t be life.
And what happens if I choose to stop?
No drifting, just halted.
Do I finally breathe?
Do I finally live?
Do I finally taste the sweet nectar of a life I so long for?
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Or do I finally rest?
What’s the meaning of life?
What is the meaning of my life?
God, please speak to me
Because I’m drifting away.