by Emma Wilson
Beginning at the end
From a complicated messy storm
I begin to bend
My forever pondering mind
From east to west
Controlled by an everlasting grind
I must never think I’m the best
For I’m just a little spec in the ash
Born at the beginning of the century
I begin to fear of the last bash
We are now forming exponentially
That forms as I hear the world roar
Through and through the dead
Feeling decomposed isn’t a bore
I get caught in the existential dread
Living to feel wild and free
Forced to be content
I break out of the sea
And become one with the cement
Through hope and love
I find myself uncomfortable
Facing the realities of a sticky glove
I often struggle
To find the meaning behind it all
Within those I surround myself with
I know for sure it will fall
But I must listen to the myth
Through all this time
I begin to wonder
With a flip of a dime
Through the roars of thunder
And tears which told
I learn to go with the flow
With endless water our earth can hold
Learning how the world can grow
While questioning the never endless mold
Hearing the truth of corporate oath
Makes my stomach churn
In the end, I must lay within my outgrowth
For in the end, I must lay and learn
That I am whole
And steady
Instead of being blind like a mole
I am forever ready
to live within this chaos
And to be ok with the beast that’s steady
Within the wrath of loss
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