What Must It Be Like? (standard:poetry, 207 words)
Author: cryptic	Added: Apr 30 2001	Views/Reads: 2974/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
dark alliteration

What must death be like? 

Constantly coasting, clinging to a convoy of cavernous clouds, trying to
keep clawing our way through the unclutchable cotton to continue on a 
fruitless search for contentment; Fear clenching our chests that a 
worse calamity awaits our bodies if we release ourselves into the 
roaring, roasting regions below which will ravage all remants of our 
raging reality? 

Or forever fumbling, floundering in the foamy, fuming seas trying to
stay afloat,foolishly, yet ferociously, feeling for the funnel to 
follow it back to relive our foibles, a feeble attempt at finding 
felicity? 

Or will we relentlessly ramble down the roads of our past, unseen now by
real eyes, as we restlessly ride round and around, racing towards an 
unreachable release of our pain? 

But how would that be so different from life? 

They seem almost the same; parallels perhaps, with the perpetual contact
and connections with causes and choices, those continuous calamities 
that condemn us to a living death while we remain tenuously tethered in 
a tangle through tortured turns until this tassle wears thin and we 
tumble to that poisonous place where we can slither in solitude through 
the same scenarios; silence our only solace of the seemingly endless 
seasons of our suffering.


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