Your Silent

by muags

The sorrow of each man is drenched with introspection
subjectiveness is the quality of pain
which we can never see
and to each individual
the avalanche is real
even if it looks like a snowflake
in the monotony
we are crushed and
brought back to life
by the best thoughts we can conjure
if we are lucky
the mind contorts
trying to rescue itself
from a private execution
the brain twisting its spine
trying adamantly
to squirm out of its situation
fighting against its
biggest opponent
itself
sometimes succeeding
and then we grow stronger for having done so
god bless those who have done so
but often
the plate breaks
ceramic on stone
stranded and alone
so the individual must sweep
up the pieces
and form a new vase
one for holding expired flowers
but flowers none the less

 

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