Meaning - A cloud walker; One who lives in the cloud of their own imagination or dreams, or one who does not abide by the precepts of society, literature, or art; An unconventional, unorthodox person

The alarm blares at 5:00 A.M. It is not the alarm that wakes me. I am already awake. What wakes me all night was the dreading ticks of the clock slowly pacing towards the morning hour where the precise mechanical movements of the gears cause the alarm blare incessantly removing me from the distant land, a place to where I belong, and trapping me in the reality. The eyes are wide open not in the great excitement of unraveling the new day but in the great despair of monotony, my life has come to. The shroud of sadness wraps me as I look in the mirror waking myself to start the ordeal of living. The bus awaits like an executioner ready to drag its victim to the slaughterhouse conscious about the fact that we are going to spend most of our time in the hell we willingly sponsor ourselves to enter. The journey is far so I rest my head against the shuddering window. The wind carries my tears as a testament to the painful shackles binding me to the underworld. I often look up to the skies for some reason. I see hope in the blue and white. I yearn for the wings to take me away from the depths of the burrow I have fallen into. The anger boils within me and the steam is rising and rising with no out for it. I sit in my place doing the same thing for so long I do not even care to remember.

The sunshine breaks through the window as I look out again to the bright sky envious of the birds soaring high majestically in the true spirit of freedom. The chains of the underworld have trapped me. I am sick. This may be the world I was born into but this is definitely not the world I belong to. My world is light. A pure pristine kind. Love is the only law and what you can imagine are your only limits. I should do what must be done to go to the place where I should be. I have only dreamed about it. I need to force my wing which is not yet there. I need to break the shackles which are strongly binding me and burning me in this inferno. Break it. Break it. Be free. Be free. Fly. Fly. Go. Go. I cannot stop. I have to reach to my heart which is in the world where it truly belongs. Rise. Rise. The shackles are trying their best. Rise. Rise. The wings have started to struggle. Rise. Rise. The sky is waiting for you. The bonds are broken. Freedom. The underworld is shrinking. The wings have formed. Fly. Fly. The clouds are almost there. Rise. Rise. Witness the birth of a beautiful scarlet winged phoenix.

6 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All