Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Headstall's Reflections - 86. Chapter 86 Unbalanced
Unbalanced
What do we do
When the light dims
And bright yellows fade to greys
When cherished songs become daggers
Striking deep in a tired heart that does remember
The distant pain and beauty of lost love
Pray what is this man to do
When rain doesn’t ease
My hidden sorrows
What do we do
When the freshest wind
No longer fills our lungs with power
Instead causing us to huddle from its cold
Like a decrepit creature no longer in sync with life
As it slides over numb skin quick to hide
And forces us from our sanctum
Like a beaten cur
What do we do
As our light shutters
And old calloused fingers
No longer discern between leather and lace
And our mind finds it challenging to travel straight paths
When our heart is reduced to mechanics
For the pulse of tepid blood
To keep us alive
Another day
What do we do
When the pit of our stomach
Feels bigger than yon harvest moon
And our mortal fears become all consuming
Wreaking havoc as we struggle with our newest reality
The end may indeed be drawing ever closer
But as long as our body draws breath
We can discover good purpose
So we cling and we adapt
“Unbalanced” original- Unedited
What do we do
When the light dims
When yellows become grays
And songs become daggers
To a heart remembering only vaguely
What do we do
When rain doesn’t wash away pain
Like it used to
When fresh wind now slides off numb skin
And all we feel is… nothing
What do we do
When the clouds won’t disperse
To give the sun a chance
And the fog of the world
Seeps within
What do we do
When the light dims
And tough fingers
Can’t tell the difference
Between leather and Lace
When straight paths
evade the mind
And we recognize our hearts
Have become simply pumps
For lazy, tepid blood
What do we do
When the pit in our stomach
Is bigger than the moon
A moon that doesn’t swallow the dark
Or ignite new passion
What do we do besides hold on… and hope
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Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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