The Prize

The prize is something we will never know until we experience it. Until then, here's a thought:


The mind is impoverished, stuck in the slums
Remorseless lies banging on my ear drums,
Bang bang bang! Let me in!
Demanding to consume my thoughts with its din.
I stop. Stand still.
My ears fall deaf to its fill.

The whispers, the talk,
Too much noise sabotage!
Kidnap us from quiet,
Distract us with your riot.
The bigger the better;
Peace is an extinct letter.

Bury me deep in a lustrous story,
Grant me distinction and glory.
Life is a game I played all wrong,
Like the lyrics of a folk song,
Ever changing, never known
Just a rumor in a tone.

Checkmate came and now I determine
I lived the life of a vermin.
Pussyfooting in the dark, making excuses
Never taking accountability for all my abuses.
As the end is nigh, the truth is high
I am silent. Being.
Elusive.