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Hopelessly Lost
At some point, very suddenly the horrible realization comes. The imperceptibly receding familiar has now utterly disappeared replaced with the similar where everything shouts its wrongness. Your reflection, seen in warped blurs in the strange windows, looks just like everyone else: sullied and lifeless and routine. But no matter how hard you scrub the soul-deep dirt remains mocking you and your little efforts always when you think you're in the clear, you become aware of those shadowy figures trailing behind you constantly scrutinizing, disapproving, asking their eternal questions and telling you with every turn it's the wrong way. And you shout back your blasphemy: "Oh, to pull a Jesus:
tip over their tables
and whip them all out of town,
strap on infernal wings
ascend or descend --
it's all the same
as long as it's a flight
away from me!"
And all the angels, long dead, laugh your defiance to scorn. And God, bored to tears, won't even waste a thunderbolt. And so you continue to stumble, walking in circles, feverishly searching for the way out... your life nothing but an embarrassment. |
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