Rotting Hearts - Poem

Rotting Hearts


From within comes a stench, slowly enfolding our essence, filling the empty spaces with despair and spite. A becoming is eroding our ties to vision and passion, casting aside our empathy and guard, staining our future with debt incurred, disease and discomfort , which have become our undesirable allies in this plight. Dreams are turning to nightmares and hope has grown emaciated. Fear makes it's way into the heart, like poison running through our veins, the end comes slow and painfully.

Fewer places to turn, more tragedy to burn, I am left cold and withdrawn, unable to see any light in this tunnel, choking on rabid regurgitation of lies and propaganda, watching as my loved ones become consumed with an illusional status quo that maims and kills any healthy growth of spirit, of love, of earth, of wisdom and youth.

Why can't we be more than we are, why can't we look up and see, why are we drowning in this toxic reality. I'd swim for the shore but the water has risen, permeating all intention and will with toil and suffering, pushing me further out. As mildewed routines and detached attention enslave my ambition, I surrender my worth and remain all alone, emotionless, empty as I gasp in a sea of black doldrums. My chastised efforts never spawn in the muddied waters of expectations. My only epiphanies are putrid and thicken the walls of my prison. We are in a storm, we are the storm, destroying everything before it washes away.

As I try to hold a position on the fence, with a bitter desire to seek greener fields, I am constantly knocked off by a reality that is not mine, a collective gloom that has formed blinders over my sight, toxins for my soul and darkness that chases away the light. Frail and light headed I cannot see beyond this veil of tribulation, I can no longer sense any good, any faith, or any tolerance.

Do not seek your reflection in me, I am a broken mirror and will cast doubts and misery upon thee . Do not look to me for support, my basket is empty and all I have to give is the blackness that consumes me. My will has gone placid and my voice has become muted. As I search to embrace light, there is none to be found, so my heart continues to rot away. Is it too late to revive my convictions, or are they turning to dust?

Oh great spirit, fill me with light and renew my heart, so that I may live again...


speculativeoptimist

Well, I am mostly an optimistic person, but I have experienced my share of misery too in these trying times. As an artist, sometimes I choose to reside in chaos, to observe and learn the processes and effects. This is a type of therapy and sometimes the result is a literary defecation, a purging if you will of the blackness that creeps into our being at times. This poem was written in a dark period of my life, when I was overwhelmed with despair. Fortunately I found some more positive attributes in this life to focus on and fill the void with light.

Peace,
spec

I prefer the fact that i learned about the horrendous nature of humans when i did.

I am also glad i will not fall for the rubbish peopel get into.

reply to post by speculativeoptimist


I may have to read this three or four more times to really appreciate it...

Well done spec and Ty for sharing !


~meathead

P.S.
I starred and flagged this the other day when you posted it, but I waited to reply so I could give it a little bump for you

reply to post by Mike Stivic

Thank you meathead, I appreciate it. Although this piece is a little dark for me, it represents a dark time that I went through during my "wake up" process. Fortunately I decided to seek out more positive things to surround myself with and have grown through and past that stage. It is easy to get bummed out these days, but we don't have to keep swimming in it.

peace,
spec