Day 13: Threshold

Photo: mubi.com

I take a walk with myself down the corridors of sedate secrets,

And the perplexities I behold will rip open the veins.

The walls are decorated with serrated paneling. 

Time and consequence fled the stage

And left behind a trail of blood and a well turned strip of ruin.

But inside, my heart still finds courage to be strong.

Like many of the stuff which defies chemical analysis, it’s an exception to the rule.

And if I had to erase a strip of 10,000 walls,

At this point, I am of the opinion that brawn alone is an insufficient tool.

I strive for an opening in every vault of opportunity I access.

I have to you see, I am consciously grooming my inner biceps.

It’s funny how time flies

Just when you’re beginning to get a hang of things.

How the weight is thrown off enthusiasm just before you glimpse the finish line.

It’s hard to imagine standing in the middle of these eccentricities.

I’m swinging all I am on the carousel, perfecting the life cycle.

The storm is gathering up forces from a gale,

It’s the testing of everything for which I became disciple.

I close my eyes and hold my course; waiting to exhale

This is the one question eternity stands still to answer

Besides, I haven’t the slightest intent of changing stanza.

The taste of victory’s been slapped out of my mouth

And I pine for one more view of the clouds.

Life gets in the way of imagination

Working itself out in cavorts with the machinery of dissociation.

One more step and I’m in the coven of dangerous things;

Trapped within the hollows in these walls are forbidden screams.

Sounds that will pierce deaf ears and wake the dead.

But I’d rather confine my search to properties promising prospect.

Wordless voices, ghosts from the past deliver lethal utterances

Like grim oracles from a shrine uttered in present perfect tenses.

I ought to turn around and flee the horror at the end of the corridor;

I ought to disengage and lay off pursuit; turn off my fervor.

But the thing with the heart is it does what it wants to do.

I can’t quit the adventure; can’t hold still, I gatto move to the groove.

Incarcerated by my passion I hear my bones creak as I

Struggle to resist the urge in the wake of inescapable soul sacrifice.

It’s funny to think I was out to catch up on some fun.

And now here I am, I got my butt stuck in a rut and all.

But as a legend once said, Life goes on.

Akpan