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