On this island,
I sit here on my own,
the slightly cool sand that imprints me,
also trickles out of the fist that is my hand,
and buries my toes.
I can see the rushing water,
as it’s kind of a windy day,
have been here for quite some time,
since I was washed ashore,
shipwrecked, I guess,
or something of the sort,
I have no cuts or scrapes,
but my mind and heart is a mess.
Standing now, I see a few birds,
better off than me,
as they soar their wings to elsewhere,
and the ocean before me offers no escape,
except for no way home,
no ship to sail,
no boat to row,
just me with my thoughts,
and the thoughts of everyone else.
Behind me was the jungle,
where I lived for a while,
ensnaring, at most,
but intriguing, at best,
it was where I took shelter,
it was where I often played,
but the jungle isn’t safe anymore,
the jungle is on fire,
no way of knowing from where the sparks came,
but the trees are now riddled with flames,
it was a wonder how I made it out,
or even if I really did,
somewhere, part of me is still in there,
embedded in the blaze,
the largest smoke signal I’ve ever seen,
and still no one comes to save me,
I’ll never know if it really was my fault.
This sand is a fine line,
between inner and outer conflict,
neither of which, has an easy solution,
so I’ll trace my life upon the grains,
until the water stills,
and the jungle whittles to ash.
Written by Alex K Submitted by Dizi
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