Friday, 31 October 2014

Maze of Uncertainty

Whispering in small, invisible voices
Strange and mysterious
Opportunities pass me by
Like the scintillating snowflakes falling from the sky
That melt when they touch the skin
Leaving the sensation of regret and of guilt
As a chilly, deathly wind blows
These snowflakes fall into the soiled snow
Piled high, covering the entire street
This graveyard of opportunities
Ignored and unseen.
Upon this snow, stands a snowman
With a furry coat, a colourful hat
And a big, comical smile on his face
For a moment, light reflects off his surface
Sunlight,as it manages to briefly escape the clouds
All around,
A dazzling yellow glow
For me it my be a symbol of hope
Yet for the snowman it spells his death.
But still he got his chance in the end
To have lived, to be content and happy
Unlike me
And unlike the homeless man that shivers on the bench
Whose only protection is a tattered blanket.
The snowflakes fall down like his invisible tears
His face contorted, teeth clenched, in distress and fear
He stares at me through his blood-shot eyes
Warning me with a thousand, invisible cries
To not let these opportunities go away
Before they become my grave
Like the snow under which he slowly dies...
In a nearby house someone catches my eye
A man standing on his front porch
Which is spotless, like his clothes
In his hand, a mug of hot coffee
Which he sips on as he smiles at me
A smile without tension and worries.
As he returns to his house, full of comfort and luxuries
The steam from his mug intertwines into a hand
Luring me towards all that I could have
Which is hard to see
The fogged window making them invisible to me
The snowflakes that cling onto my body
Suddenly seem so heavy
Their weight slowly and steadily increases
'You're wasting opportunities.'
I make my way forward in the Maze of Uncertainty
So many voices, so many voices.

Its autumn time, the park is full of happiness
Children play around, full of merriment
But all this joy is unfamiliar to me
Instead my eyes are on the towering, oak tree
Under which stands a man
Whose worker clothes label him an outcast
Hardened face, frustrated frown
His aching arms removing sweat from his brow
Carrying not only an overflowing bag
But also his broken dreams on his stooped back
He slowly picks up his wasted opportunities
Trash and dead leaves
That are relentlessly thrown down
By the tree and children, to the ground
The wind mockingly scatters them about
Laughter from the children around
His difficulties and efforts ignored.
Suddenly, for a split-second, everything darkens
The colours of the sunset waver
And everyone disappears, but the tree and worker
And though everything else seems unchanged
It feels like a different place
The wind grows stronger
And swirls around the worker
Makes his stooped back rise
The twilight behind falling onto him like a spotlight
The uniform he wears transforms into one of power and authority
A man of importance, a man he could have been
His face beams with radiant confidence
The wind bows down to him
The leaves rustle feverishly in an applause.
Until the spotlight withdraws
As the twilight slowly begins to die
Heading towards the foreboding night.
The worker returns to what he was
A miserable ghost among us
The applause perishes to eerie warnings
Besides me, the wind brings in dead leaves
'Do not waste these opportunities.'
So many voices, so many voices.

Voices call out to me
Some belong to my friends and family
Others unknown to me
So many voices, what should I do?
Who do I listen to?
Some are tempting, some are seductive
But their sole purpose in my destruction
Some give me chances to follow my dreams
But these are too hard to seek.
I long to hear the chirping of birds
The sounds of nature and of the world
And the voice I want to hear most of all
Is my own
Which is lost in this Maze of Uncertainty...
So many voices, so many voices
I can't decide, I can't decide
Will I face them? Or will I hide? ...