Skip to main content

Journey



Journey
Your journey begins
here. At the end of
everything. You
must take that
dreaded step -
into the wilderness.
Off the cliff face.
Into nothing.

Your path has only
just begun. Weary-eyed,
soul-drained. Lost
in the rat race of this
concrete jungle they
call civilisation -
progress. Home?

Your time in this
metropolis was but
a passing wind,
eddying from storm
to storm, devoured by
gale upon gale -
spat out. Unwanted by
this unruly ocean.

Your passage was but
a means to an end.
Numbered days that
toyed with the idea
of forever. Days that
chipped at your porcelain
until you remained. A shell.


Your bloodied feet
have had no rest.
The path is arduous
and the days are long.
The journey is unbearable
and the nights hold no respite.
You don't belong here - 
a stranger in your own home.

Your voyage has
shaped and battered you.
Here you stand.
The precipice of the future.
Uncertain - but - this too shall pass.
You are liminal and it is time...

Your path has
only just begun.
The ocean has allayed
it's roaring waters. The
soothing wind holds you
in its caress. The jungle
has parted its canopy.
Your journey begins here.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment


Popular posts from this blog

The Price

Minerva rose from the sodden trench, her skin cracked and aged with time, a bobbing sea of crimson before her. The sky whirled above, a kaleidoscope of colour dashed with the ebony of ethereal crows – each hue a chapter of a life long lost. There was something somewhat uncanny about the air this time, a familiar tang of foreboding that hung like a tightened noose. She sighed.   When would mortals finally learn that the price of war was eternal damnation? Flash Fiction – 80 words.
2 comments
https://saffiyag.blogspot.co.uk/p/tok.html

Sir.

Sir, I truly am very sorry to tell you that the sun does not shine out of your posterior, that I will not conform to upper-class snobbery nor will I place frivolous labels upon the mundane. Pretentious. Sir, It is with the utmost regret that I inform you that I am in fact   a GIRL – that is sugar, spice and all things nice but also slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails and I will not pretend otherwise. Archaic.  Sir, I really do apologise that you feel the need to treat me different my head being covered , my skin being almond, chestnut, cinnamon – Prejudiced. Beastly. But Sir, I am the face of the future The mind of the liberated A body of change And you will not thwart my flame.
2 comments
https://saffiyag.blogspot.co.uk/p/tok.html

Knowledge

Knowledge. This is a word that holds extortionate amounts of  weight. A word or better yet, an object that could bring down nations only to build them up again, stronger than ever before. But what does it mean? At it's heart - what is it really? In my opinion knowledge is subjective. It is influenced by age, nationality, experience, religion and science among many other factors. Not only that but its very fibres, what it really is at its core is only that which we believe it to be for we all hold knowledge (in whatever form that may be), but how we practice it, what we consider it to be differs. I, for instance, believe that knowledge is an all-encompassing light that guides us and leads on to wisdom. It is not merely the art of being book smart or knowing scientific facts, rather, a kaleidoscope of the skills we have learnt, the hardships we have gone through, the ability to inquire and seek the truth and, at its crux the understanding of the happenings around us and the ...
3 comments
https://saffiyag.blogspot.co.uk/p/tok.html