When my thoughts begin to spiral

I wonder what would bring me back to life

to the present

to reality

I suppose the world in my head

feels like heaven to me

Where my fantasies thrive

Where my hopes never extinguish

Where my dreams never cease to exist.

Where nothing decays.

Only then does reality strike

Its arrival

vast,

harsh and cold.

In this universe,

I am but a speck of dust.

Puny, insignificant, replaceable

Alone.

And yet I wonder

If something so small

could become significant?

In a world that crowns its favourites

Its bevy of overachievers and golden children,

what is my role?

the purpose of this life?

I orbit around,

going unnoticed.

Striving relentlessly,

Doing my best,

But never touching

the outcome I yearn so dearly for.

Watching others inherit

what I work so hard for,

feeling my hands go raw.

Do my efforts no longer count,

no longer matter?

Is life but a game of luck,

masquerading as a fair system?

Faith offers some solace

Until it does not,

And only silence answers me.

How am I meant to rewrite a destiny

that has already been mapped out for me?

I ponder on and on,

Perhaps it is not God who decides,

But myself.

So I carry the weight,

the burden

of inevitability

like a personal branding

of failure.

Even if my ending has been decided,

I am the only one responsible

For the work leading there.

This is dissonance,

disguised as complexity.

All I ask for

is a glimmer

a chance

a moment

For something to fall into place

At the right time.

Is that such a huge ask?

Is it entitlement

or pure survival?

I think

And think

And think again,

Without arriving at any resolution.

Simply being wide awake 

Inside a life 

that refuses to explain itself.

Image: Broesis via Pixabay