Metastasis of Thoughts

The moon had given up on me. My tides became arrhythmic. My zodiac sign found me no longer predictable. I was abandoned to my own faith as if no god felt the need for my prayer. My sacrifices were in vane. Nightmares were black flies all over my orifices. Left alone to choose I went blank. It was easier when the future was foretold. I could effortlessly see when my action was a sin. I could beg forgiveness and plead a second chance. But the internal voices have vanished. Destiny is no longer the wind that blows my boat. A universe of possibilities is pouring rain of stars. I ought to decide. Swim to the bottom of my core. Hold my breath. Opt amongst that cosmos of potential actions. There’s no crime, there’s no judge. Everything is feasible. The door is open to this infinite garden where the sweet and the bitter, the poisonous and the sour grow. I am to sow, collect and feed my soul. At times I wish I was told what to do so I wouldn’t have to be the master of my emotions. But I’ve been freed and freedom is the scariest thought. A borderless outline is a blank canvas with no frame as boundary. I am to paint with my own colours. I am to draw the picture and pull it out of its cave. Share