Dying of Boredom

Dying of Boredom

 

A gift between heaven and hell,

I scanned the landscape—what a view!

Vicious traffic, cluttered roads, slow cars.

This is the earth as it was gifted to me—victimless, vast.

The sounds of beeping surround my ears.

Continual loop of running gas and oil.

I can’t choose between the moment

I’ve been awaken, aroused by your instrumental songs,

Sounding out the words I cannot say.

I don’t ever have to leave.

I can stay on this earthly plane,

adorning its blandness.

My memories spaced and soaring.

They’ll never be real enough

to resurrect my dying soul.

Will we ever get close enough to get out of

the darkening cloud?

I know that somewhere there is an escape.

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