The Chair. A poem.

Perpetual, an endless sojourn,
a continuum of unknowing.
This electric chair does not ease
the time as much as I would like.
The thoughts that spiral in my brain
are currents playing havoc
with the depths of perpetuity,
every outcome played out
against a backdrop of chaos.
And time ticks on, as slow as
shifting dunes or tidal sculpting.
Flick the switch, erase this unease,
ride the lightning and burn it out.
With every swollen, bleached
and battered breath, I’ll play
this game until my time is done.

I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

6 thoughts on “The Chair. A poem.

Add yours

  1. Truly this is a pragmatic representation of mental anxiety and illness! Well expressed. 🙂
    I hope such a problem alleviates, and life becomes a beautiful journey. SMILE and hope for the best!!

    Have you ever wondered how a GOAT feels a day before its death? When it is butchered in the name of ‘sacrifice’?

    “You are not the Almighty and you never can be. Who are you to pass this “judgment” upon me?”

    Liked by 1 person

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