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Language:
English
Series:
Part 7 of Poetry from the Heart
Collections:
Poetry, Collected Poems
Stats:
Published:
2022-02-13
Words:
190
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
4
Kudos:
18
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
73

Darkness is Endless

Summary:

Watching.
Waiting.
Worrying.
Wondering.

Is this what will become of those precious moments teetering between white and black?

Darkness and light.
Day and night.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Darkness is Endless

Am I resigned to sit here amongst the fleeting shadows? 
Woes abound en masse of this irreconcilable chaos.

Dreadful seconds pound on unrelentlessly to the inevitable countdown. 
Bounded like a prisoner I am, availing nothing to this tyrant termed Time.

Chimes ring hourly, passing the point of no return. 
Yearns of a forlonging wish dangle like a lure against the few beams of light still fighting through the fading haze. 

Watching. 
Waiting.
Worrying.
Wondering. 

Is this what will become of those precious moments teetering between white and black? 

Darkness and light. 
Day and night. 
Blindness and sight. 

My end is nigh.

My sand is no more. 

Do not bother to right my fallen hourglass. 
Surpass through the five stages one by one with grace, what a futility! 

Throes of grieving my dearly departed will stay with me for aeons, 
Although shaking hands with Acceptance I will not be against it, should Mourning offer a different taste. 

Am I resigned to sit here amongst the shards of this broken useless kaleidoscope?
Woes abound en masse through this inconceivable madness. 

Blindness is endless darkness.
Darkness is Endless.
Endless darkness.

Notes:

The list of things beyond my ability or control grows steadily as my remaining vision dwindles down. I wish I had the strength to find new ways to do thing, but relearning simple tasks over and over is like a punch in the gut. It meant to take me out of the count. Perhaps I can just sits in the sidelines- a spectator of sorts. I mourn the freedom and independence which I have no more. This is my constant worry; having new baselines in physical abilities because of living with a degenerative condition. It’s shrinking. Do I have enough strength in reserve to weather this storm? I am lost for words. I understand how it works, but oh how it does hurt so very deeply. It hurts. It really hurts. Perhaps I could argue “ignorance is bliss” in this circumstance, but nominally. The anxiety, fear of the unknown, and dread of the inevitable all amass into this ball of emotional soup. Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Relief. Trepidation. What should it be? Which one is the right feeling? How long will this be a time of mourning? Why does grief hurt? More visceral than even a physical injury. Am I to sit here amongst the shadows dreading the seconds until the haze fades into an everlasting darkness? Why is this all so overwhelming? I need a new start with a better story inside. I want one. Can I ask for one? Is it terrible of me chalk this all up as being so unfair? Why? Irrational me is upset with the cards of Life I've been dealt. For a moment, the briefest of moments- if only I could see what the world really is like. I want to see its splendor myself, not just hear it described.

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