Eutierria : Where The Feeble Roam

By Amanda Antoinette Rebello

For the hundredth time we awake to foreign stimuli

The feel of grit beneath our brittle claws

The taste of the earth on the tip of our tongues

The smell of decay and vegetation engulfs our senses

The sounds of silence resound and reverberate

The deprivation of light confines and oppresses

A probable lapse in time forestalls our judgement

And we breathe in the abyss of our existence

Thoughts swirl as it becomes a home

Rather poetic in its exacting nature

The world around us pitter patters into nonchalance

As critters awaken chirping, grinding, burrowing

Eyelids shut as we make a rather bleak discovery

The world collapses in on itself, pounding

Every new stimulus in tandem with the next

It's rhythm calm, a comfort and yet oppressive

Urging us to give in be one with earth

The consequence of our choice stares back at us

Prompting a reply, present evermore in question

To give in to the abyss and experience everything, buried alive

Or to break free and experience nothingness.

By Amanda Antoinette Rebello