Away, Waves

Sometimes I feel like life marches on outside -

With the stride of workers, servants, stakeholders, and politicians -

Like a tidal wave that crashes through and makes a breezy sound,

In a clockwork motion that doesn't feel too constant.

And then there we are, some people with souls like mine,

who long to run uninhibited towards the wave, the sea, and the sun.

And dance along the rhythm of continuum.

And take pride of being a part of something great.

And then there's this invisible curtain that is all too dark, and our self-constructed wall that is all too thick

That separates us from life as we know it,

That shackles our feet, silence our way, and shatter our flame,

That our longing to reach out to life is no longer the same.

So we retreat to the cave we know too well,

Where the air is thin and cold,

Where we don't need to think about the waves,

Where we perish without a scene,

Where we hope that the waves would be kind enough to reach us instead.