Ruminating

Walls and spears.

Thats all there is.

Walls built with deaf bricks. Mute bricks. Uncaring. Sterile. Unable to melt. They can only crack. Or dislodge. And then fall on me. A quick blow and I am left to tend the wound.

Spears built long and sharpened to perfection. Loping across walls. Finding their mark. A quick stab and I am left bleeding. Leaning against my wall. Drawing strength from those hard red blocks. Frozen in anger.

I tried. I try. We all try. And yet-- all we come away with are walls and spears. And we run in circles..like the planets orbiting the sun. We orbit our blinding stupidities, our amazing ignorance, our astounding conciets. And we trip on the same stones, the same cracks, the same dry gravel. Yet we run...round and round with our walls and spears.

But for what?

How long can you last without a kind word? A caring glance? A loving embrace? How long can you stand in front of the mirror staring at your open wounds? How long can you bleed and still keep breathing? How long do you want to run? Till the energy of your soul is sucked away from you? Till word by word, breath by breath, blow by blow--you are nothing. Just fine, ground salt mixing into sand. A shadow of who you were. A memory of what you were going to be.

Its over.

All over.

And yet you are running....

With your walls and spears.