Over Hollow Ground


There was a period in our lives when the clouds of society wrapped us in its misty grasp and wisped us away to a land that we didn’t know.
Our feet were just hanging inches from dry ground.
Our arms were whaling to find something, only to be cut by the sharp glass of our own desires.

We thought about our past and tried to remember the last memory when the sky could be seen.
The blinders we wear blocked the light, but if we removed them, they only helped as a measure of our despair.
Dark corners and rooms had become home to our weary souls.

It was so long ago.
So many years had pasted and the people that knew us did not see us at all.
We were only an apparition of the people we used to be.

Our hollow voids and emptiness made us blind to the things that made our life
worth seeing.
We filled ourselves with courage, laughter and strength knowing that there was much more of the same to keep us sane.
Our apparition gained stature, if only for a moment, so we could walk among those who didn’t see us.

We were happy with ourselves but their eyes told us that we were just the jesters in
their court.
We bid them goodnight and left with our best, worst friend to drive.
He was so courageous, for he had only one eye.

The road seemed straight and wide and the darkness of the night, so bright.
Our safety was close with no lights behind, as we reached our place of rest.
We feel asleep and did not dream till the next day.