The Road That is Life

How am I supposed to feel? Feel as I open the door to my room and walk down the blinding hall, The light glaring a heavenly white towards my dark, drowned eyes. I listen to the rain fall steadily upon the roof, For it is too dark to see... Too dark to know what I feel. The moon that I once adored shines so blankly, Little light filters through the window upon the ceiling, Little hope filters through the doors that lead to the outside bliss. It's too early to be scared, But somehow I am... I know so soon I will have to see what I hide from all night long. The wind blows violently as if signaling, Telling me to return to my confinment, Return to the dungeon of my room, Where I endlessly dwell, Protected from all harm the outside world has to offer... All the pain it has to give. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. There is no God, No endless sanctuary, And when I die chances are I'll live another life just like this one over again, Feeling nothing, wishing nothing... I am nothing. There is, of course, that one sliver of hope, The one small ray of light that shines through the cracks created from the impetuous rain... Cracks when the sun occassionally shines, When life becoms living, And I think about what a great time this is... But don't be fooled. Life isn't a long road of happiness and joy, Love and marriage. Life is that feeling you get when you can't quite figure out whether you're up or down, It never really has a true image... Life is... yes, life is... Those short bursts of green light joys followed by quick yellows and long periods of red, All leading to a final destination, On the road that is life. Written November 1st, 2001 © on Nov 01 2001 07:36 AM PST   10 • 0