A middle finger to the grim reaper |
In Search of That Illusion In those darkest moments, I see my life as if on a path, A long and featureless road. But at its end, a light Gorgeous and awe-inspiring Exuding its radiance even from its far distant point Standing out against the abyss As I gaze upon its brilliance A cold and bitter wind causes me to turn Back towards that traveled road Towards that most feared and hated foe The looming figure, the cowled face Darkness incarnate He smiles and creeps forward, Slowly, yet inexorably My chest constricts As the icy hand of fear grips my heart Worming its cold dead fingers deep into my flesh I look back towards my goal, Hoping to find solace in its warmth, But as I watch, The frail mirror that I took to be the truth Shattered, shattered into a thousand razor blades Biting teeth of glass lay out all around me And the light… gone As I lament in that deepest self-pity And consider rushing to the arms of that shadowy visage To end prematurely what I know must one day be I see that dark follower smile Smile as one who has won a fixed game And that thought changes me, A dull defiance kindles into a roaring flame Indignation at this cruel game and its players And much to the perplexed amusement of my shadowy friend I begin to run, Into the biting maw of bristled glass daggers Tearing into my soul Destroying all that I have built And I grin the grin of madmen At the irony of this feeble rebellion At my follower’s confused expression At that waning hope that one day far from now, Riddled with the scars of my misfortunes, I will come upon that piece of refracted light Clutch it with all the desperation of life, Cherishing its radiance As my follower vanishes into oblivion And I will know joy I will know content I will know no fear |