Clocked my hopes,
sheltered my dreams.
Masked my face,
became devil’s advocate,
played the role staggeringly well.
Lost myself in the crowd;
I didn’t leave a trail,
burned all bridges without a second thought.

Imprisoned my brain in self-doubts.
I wanted to rise above my demons,
but ended up dancing with them into a trance.
I dodged them too, going round in circles.

So lost was I,
that the angels abandoned hopes of my revival;
the outcast and the accused too
shook their heads in dismay.

When I turned to look at what I was leaving behind,
I was horrified at the scene awaiting my eyes-
nothing but a pile of rubble with smoke ascending skyward.
I didn’t know what to expect,
but clearly it wasn’t what lay before me.

I excused the devil for outcasting me,
I apologized to the angels.
I stood there-
unnerved, immobilized, gazing at the clouds above.
And I could have sworn I saw someone
gently gazing at the frenzy that I was,
and I felt a short-lived spark ignite me.

I broke down,
my body trembled with suppressed sobs,
neurons fired across my brain,
my heart raced to keep up the pace.
I sat there devouring my destruction,
it was supposed to be the ultimate salvation.

But why did it feel like all hell broke loose?
I was startled, being the lead character,
in a very eldritch drama
which was far from ceasing!

GREG RAKOZY JORDAN SANCHEZ

 

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