Mirage

80 miles per hour

Down the interstate

In my honda vezel

Along the disrepaired roads

Muddied with potholes like

Craters on the rocky moon,

Each one a trap, waiting for 

An unsuspecting vehicle

To fall within its clutches, 

And like a parasite,

Grabs the wheels and sucks

The air out of the wheels,

Leaving the driver stranded

In the vast expanse of ocean

That is the desert, 

Sparsely populated by lonely cactuses

And shrivelled bushes,

Parched for water.

And for a second,

Hope does seem to lie

Just below the horizon like

Mirrors, reflecting my being

Upon itself, like an open portal to an

Alternate dimension.

And yet as I traverse the sandy shores

Of this sandy ocean at 80 miles per hour

Hope, too seems to stray away,

Further and further out of reach,

Until the sand melts into

Grasslands,

Forests,

Hills.

And so thus concludes this story:

That reprieve lies beyond reach

Of my imagination.

/

20 years passed by,

Down the river of life

In this shell of a body

Along forgotten memories,

Muddied with faded screams like

Echoes of spirits on fiery hell,

Each one a trap, waiting

For me

To fall within its clutches,

And like a parasite,

Grabs my mind and sucks out

My sanity from myself,

Leaving me spiralling

In the hopeless expanse

That is my mind,

Sparsely populated by 

warm moments,

And intimate memories,

Parched for respite.

And yet as I traverse the sandy shores

Of this sandy ocean in which I’ve stayed 20 years,

Hope, too seems to stray away,

Further and further out of reach,

Until my surroundings melt into

Disillusionment,

Blind rage,

Fear. 

And for a second,

Hope does seem to lie

Just below the horizon like

Mirrors, reflecting my being

Upon itself, like an open portal to an

Mirrored reality.

And so thus concludes my story:

That reprieve is a mirage that

Lies beyond reach

Of my imagination.