Poem: The Race of Life

The unrelenting hounds were close behind, pounding the earth as
Wrathful as thunder,
Cornered was I, vulnerable infant, and optionless, cast
Myself off the tower.
I was sucked into a deathly plunge, closer and closer to
The cold granite under,
I braced myself, for closer, and ever
Closer, and…

The kiss of cold rays as I wiped my drowsy lids, death
Is only a dream.
I am forced to live, once again, a life
I know not means.

There are but two lines and betwixt a race,
For to fight and thrive, at the first we are placed.
The race shall commence, whether or not you partake,
And for the outcome of your complacency, your life is staked.
Heads will roll, it is what it means to compete,
And compete we must, if this race we are to complete.

The struggle, this strife, requires of each a dream,
And for Life’s race to complete, this stands a prerequisite.
A dream one must have, in its stead is no alternative,
And he scourges himself if his unexists.
Thus I begot mine and with it strive to attain
Greatness, freedom, and them both to retain.

A shackled life, the inability to dream,
So strive repeatedly, the goals to reach.
Heads surely rolled in the battle’s pitch,
And just spared was I, my visions to fulfill.
This perfidious dream, as elusive as ever,
By my very bones, I shall take prisoner!

Some struggled, but dreams still eluded,
And next were their heads, implacably, their race ended.
Frantic were their quest, a dream to beget,
But unrelenting is fate who sealed their sentence.
Hounded, they contemplated in the cliff of mediocrity,
And cornered, jumped, … , after all, death is but a dream.