humanity
Mundane
This poem was inspired by my morning commute. What a painful awakening.
So overwhelming, here comes the mundane. Lifting myself from cushion, reeling into corpse. I secure a blessing first before I die, then off to meet other poor souls. No force.
The bus may be warm, yet it listens and warns. A long journey towards judgment day. The train awaits, bearing more of us. No one dares to utter a moan, we’re aware of our destiny. No fuss.
We arrive to be beaten, we are also silenced. Is this a punishment for entering? Not a home in sight, no cheerful delight. We’re told it’s a choice conceived out of a foolish yearning. No singing.
Desperate to escape, praying to stay alive. Yet, dignity holds on to survive. It’s fine, keep trampling it down. To fight back is a waste of time. It has already stuck into the skin. Society, this mundane, it stings.
What’s even more overwhelming is they’re afraid of the sun. All of us are going to die at once. But I refuse to leave with snakes and vultures eating off my heart. My corpse will not let me lay to rest until I am satisfied with my art.
Though I am ready to depart.
The overwhelming. The mundane.