Dust lies undisturbed
Rust settles on the chest
Yet it appears perturbed
Mayhem aches to rest.
Towards the trunk, she walked
Charmed by its antiquity
And the adult inside her mocked
But she is urged forward by curiosity.
The lock is broken
Yet the chest looks regal
The child within her has woken
Flying ahead like a seagull.
Shivers pace her veins
As her fingers trace the iron handle
Her imagination has liberated from chains
And hope is lit, bright as a candle.
Hesitation greets her with repugnance
Overwhelmed, she fears what lies inside
Solicitude clashes with indignance
Battle compels her to choose a side.
Years of experience make her paranoid
Coerces her to expect the worst
She is afraid to fall in the void
Afraid to be consumed by thirst.
Yet the child envisions wonders hidden
Visions that perplex the sane
A dream which was forbidden
Amongst the mountains and the rain.
Selfish as she has been
She still craves to see it all
Her eyes covered by a sheen
Curiosity has won the brawl.
As she opens the cracked lid
Two broken things make contact
This is where the Unknown hid
And yet the chest has remained intact.
As hope, we rise
As dust and shadows, we fall
Just as a baby cries
And the dead answers its call.
What did you think of this poem and what do you think was inside the chest? Let me know in the comments down below.
This is a re-post or whatever it is called when you publish an old post again. I hope you’re doing well. Everything here seems pretty much the same. Seems like it was June just yesterday. Anyway, I hope your loved ones are safe and sound. Take care and be safe, everyone!