after Covid

Floating as a Wreck

The storms have hacked you all to pieces,
your life is permanently brought to ruin,
you have nothing left but endless bitterness, remorse and tears,
and you lie shackled, shattered, incapacitated as a wreck,
while you notice with some wonder,
although without sails, a slaughtered broken hulk
with nothing left of any navigation skills,
that you keep floating, maybe in a dead calm
just before the final storm, the definite destruction,
but it never comes. Although you feel like dead
and are like dead, you are kept forcibly alive
almost against your will, a most involuntary grace
like being sentenced, not to death, but to what must be worse,
continued life in utterly outrageous circumstances.
And the only thing that you can do about it
is complying with the judgment in subordination
in the inescapable necessity of making just the best of it.

Poetry by Christian Lanciai The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 178 times
Written on 2021-04-22 at 01:22

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text