surreal perserverance
By Shaiyan Hossain
as i walk into the blistering cold it does not bother me, as my will is colder than the cold the wind slapping me, like a failure on a test well prepared for a parent scolding their child a rejection of a dream my hands: they turn blue, but I have no penchant to scream stopping here would mean certain doom i must go on, with every last breath no, no i cannot look back, even in this desolation my past demons, they haunt me even come up to me in person, weird, ‘cause the streets seem empty huh? my haters, they taunt me yet i still go on into the violent night my path is only straight, i gain total control my gaze piercing into the darkness my stance, battle-ready my breathing, aggressive yet steady the cold? ‘tis now nothing to me none of this feels real, but at the same time, all of my senses are in overdrive of a sensation i must go on i must go on my willpower is colder than the cold my willpower is colder than the cold there is a light at the end, i must survive I can hear and see the chimes of everyone conversing together, past the hurdles, past the fear, past the hate my mind roams the vast desolate expanse as i am bound to this small cube and thus I wake
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Vol. XXXVIII, Issue 2 17
