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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2140600
The weight of the World
The constant weight of the world rests on my shoulders
but why is there nothing to hold me?
The mountains, the tree’s, life’s largest boulders,
pull me down into the deep dark sea.

The chains holding this drowning and choking infant
cannot be unshackled, torched or snapped.
The lack of oxygen proves the indifferent
sinking into crevices, not mapped.

This place alone, this place of the dark
is occasionally illuminated by the unknown.
The terror I always bear now embarks,
the haunted of suffocation, enclosure of the once known.

Deep within this pressurized system
diamonds are made or fossils withered.
The lack of presence once conditioned,
tortures chains one cannot configure

Each bubble of air extirpates my own core,
and refutes my any attempt to breath.
Where’s the genie to save this death knocking door?
This far down I can only believe;

If I reach the bottom, to the sand will I sift,
the world, all I hold, lost in abyss.
Cradled to the grave, leashed by a chain, not a gift.
Death by the handshake, not by the fist.

My own Atlantis, lost in the deepest crevice,
will be gone, pale, unmoved for the years.
To the eye of darkness I will be embellished.
Do not fear, for that time is far near.

Time flowing with the current of me,
deep within the sea. Clicking clockwork has no meaning, for blind
is all around me, I cannot see.
In a space set free, close found time lost open, yet my confined.

Swallow every grasp I try to breath,
for breath deprived, denied was free.
Above the surface, death underneath,
drowning so uncomfortably.

How comfortable the thought of my own death,
no more tests, less life, only regrets.
Into the sea, into the crevice, my last breath,
I’m no waste, holding it all, I just miss- stepped.

Off the turtle holding the world held by all me,
was the turtle floating in the sea?
Were is its own chains, or is this all me deceived,
each chain is my own self set decree.

This schematic of hope, can my mind tell me right!
Uprooting my city in this blight.
My once lost treasure’s, glory contrived of the bright,
locked away in this prison of night.

Find the key to this chain, I must will,
the let go, release, move on, pushed by the wave of a new song.
But how hard for that chain breaking kill,
how do I decipher what I cannot see? The ever long

Struggle. Shouldn’t I just try to breath?
Deep down, lost without my turtle shell,
this dark, sunken place has no relieve.
No hidden magic that can dispel

The chain of death I created myself.

This city is lost, becomes a myth,
deep down within the crevice chain scythe
For now, all I become is the sift,
and to the ocean my city burdens drift.
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