Sunday, December 9, 2012

My life flows like
overturned upon
A blank page

 No rhyme or reason
It has no purpose
But my eyes are drawn
To the black liquid just the same

 I watch
As it consumes the paper
I try to make sense of its pattern
Though it makes no sense at all

 I glance out the window
As the storm moves in
The wind wails
And the rain begins to fall

 The moon whispers my name
Raising my head, I ask
Did you see my tears,
Glistening in your soft light?

 But the dark clouds roll in
And I'm alone again
The night, now
as black as the stain upon my paper

 There's a slope to my desk
And the ink has reached
The paper's boundaries
Slowly, I turn the page sideways

 The ink is halted
Suspended, confused
But only for a moment
And then it changes directions

 And flows once more
Looking for freedom
Crossing old paths
And finding new ones

 It falters, and ever so
Slightly goes off course
Seeking  direction
To escape its confinement

 Leaving behind
Some of its mass
As it searches for its way
blindly in the sea of white

 Momentum lost
But it moves
Onward until it
Reaches the edge once more

 Freedom in sight
Using most of its energy
It tries to break past the boundary
And I turn the page once more

Slowly, it falls back
Now just a drop, small and weak
No longer able to find new paths
So it trudges down old ones

 But even this
Takes its toll
And drains its substance
Until there is nothing left

 And slowly the ink dries
Forever in time, just a small
Stain among the paths of its life
Within the page's boundaries

 At first glance
The ink pattern
Seems a mess
A waste of a blank page

 And then the moon
Shines once more
And beauty can be seen
Amid Intricate patterns
I wonder what paths
It would've chosen
If it had only been stronger
And had not lost so much of itself

 More white than black
Is left on the page
And  I find sadness
In paths untaken

 The page's edges
Had become prison walls
Its blank areas merely
Dreams unfulfilled
My life flows like
overturned upon
a blank page

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