Captured moments

Existential catharsis

**Captured Moments**

In a narrow alley where shadows dwell,
the bricks are damp with whispers of rain,
I cradle my heart, a dull echoing shell,
crying—the silent currency of pain.
I open my palms to the reality’s weight,
the fierce turmoil streaming through veins,
yet the world churns onward, heedless of fate,
everyone busy, each harboring chains.

Oh, the grandeur of lives—so fervently lived,
while mine sinks beneath waves of apathetic blue,
on the surface, I smile, like a porcelain sieve,
allowing each fragment of joy to slip through.
I understand, I promise, your burdens endure
now and forever, I offer no blame,
my needs festooned, a delicate lure,
yet they linger, unspoken, a haunting refrain.

That mid-afternoon sun blinks behind clouds,
as I wander, resigned, beyond this dim space,
to the zoo where the animals wear heavy shrouds—
such splendid creatures held tight in a cage.
I peek through the bars at their luminous eyes,
and perhaps I can draw solace, a balm to my soul,
for in their quiet despair, a companion to cries,
and in their stillness lies a hope to feel whole.

Yet here, in this paradox, I find only dread,
for freedom’s imaginings are cruel when confined,
trapped beasts bear the burden of lives poorly led,
and of them I ache, but more so for the kind.
No one ought to feel guilty, yet still, I retreat,
swelling shadows enfold me in layers of gloom,
“Your life is a maze, my own is defeat,
so perhaps I’ll seal up my heart in a tomb.”

I grasp at the edges of quiet despair,
and offer a truce to this tangled distress,
I’ll stifle my longing, this earnest affair—
to ask for compassion feels like a mess.
I guess I’ll turn inward, no place left to shed,
all my feeble wishes dressed in disguise,
without voice to carry my heart’s heavy thread,
the desires of silence are shrouded in lies.

Yet, dear friend, I truly release you, I swear,
from the chains of my sorrow, a weight on your shoulders,
for I see your own burdens, I’m painfully aware,
as I march through this life, a lone, dreary soldier.
Each heartbeat a question, each choice a lament,
and still, I don’t wish to encumber your grace,
but my spirit is weary, so tired and spent,
as I search for the moments of light, of embrace.

I’ll forge through the sorrow, I’ll carry the blight,
with each dawning sunrise, a step toward the verdant,
hoping one day to catch a glimpse of delight,
in the tapestry woven, both fragile and fervent.
I remain cocooned where the echoes convert,
and dream of a day when the shadows will wane,
for somewhere out there lies a moment unhurt—
a whisper of joy in this tempest of pain.

~danielbird
12:35 pm
10/11/24