Why the Ice Crackles Under the Water

Impassively, devoid of emotion

Like a desert that was once an ocean.

These eyes that look cold of fear

And these ears that only hear about how to fear

Aching in impatience, forsaken by its many faces

All this time ignored, implored, crying out just to be restored

Hiding under curtains of submission, false acquisition,

Dying from its unbearable position.

Yet it muffles its cries, lying to hide, too humiliated to die.

We’re being blinded by this illusion, delusion, closed into seclusion.

Hovered under our imaginary profusion, this confusion,

Our only conclusion is our comfort’s intrusion.

The grass is all around us,

Yet we choose the dirt that surrounds us.

Take a risk, Take a dive, for once seek before you hide,

How can you smile to someone when you’re crying on the inside?

Your disposition, your intuition, rebel against your institution

It’s synonymous, it’s monotonous, so overdone it’s preposterous.

We’re so concerned who’s going to turn out best.

But who’s going to step up when it comes to the test?

We keep striving to be stronger to feed our pride,

When in reality, we’re all just weak inside.

The ice, so cold and strong, crackles beneath the water,

We can’t fight the weakness within ourselves, so why should we even bother?

Oh how easily we can break

Just by that one simple mistake.

The main reality is our mortality,

Our hospitality is just abnormality, the actuality of our fatality

Is our human weakness,

Is to suffer from the shadow of bleakness.

How can we expect to help others when we expel

The one thing we use to heal ourselves.

The water reveals the ice’s one debility,

Our infirmity, something beyond our ability.  It’s incapability.

Feed him, ice-water and whine.

So one day, he’ll run dry.

He’ll keep running, and we’ll love to see him try,

Try and stay alive.

He’ll try and try, filled with the dreams of lies.

He’ll try and try, till the day is nigh.

Watch and laugh as he runs in circles,

Because one day, we know he’ll die.

A/N – AHHH!  I HATE FICTIONPRESS FORMATTING!!!!  *breathes* ugh… frustrating.  Currently, I am now going through every single one of my poems and reformatting it because Fictionpress stripped all the breaks and it looks like one big clump… stanzas are important!!!!