Lost

Lost


When I wake in the mourning

My journey begins.

One of many challenges and twice the rewards.


The sunrise sets me off like a white hot flame to a fuse

As I watch it burn, time slows to a trickle.

I cannot force the moment to its crisis,

nor stop the inevitable burn.


So I walk. I follow the black abyss laid ahead.

This electric rope shimmers with purpose raw from being forced.

I try to force a thought but the first firecracker explodes in my chest.

Scared, I try again with my own electric pulse.


Time and time again, I am denied.

Exhausted, I relinquish my heart to my feet.

With the sun beating down on my head my pathway disappears.

With every step I grow more afraid to find what lies ahead.


With every step I feel… liberated to continue absent bearing.

Incredibly excited to see the shimmering star laid ahead

I stop and marvel at the distance traveled.

In my wake lies the abyss, defeated. Now following me.


Thankful for the ability to lend my heart to my feet

Keeping my brain on the side line is the best thing that I could have done.

And as the sunsets and the last spark ignites and dissolves

Before the last flicker I am lost… and it feels good.

Comments 2 comments

abhijeet4800 profile image

abhijeet4800 4 years ago from Pune, India

Nice piece of writing...just corect the spelling of "mourning" as " morning". Great hub...


Blinx profile image

Blinx 4 years ago from Winston-Salem, North Carolina Author

Thanks! The spelling is correct; it's a play on words that can go both ways.

Mourning: meaning a very strong emotional challenge.

Morning: being rebirth.

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