Artificial Light

The following is a piece of writing I created on the 1st of May 2007 it was published on my Myspace blog but has not seen the light of day since. I really like this piece of emo poetry, it was written while I was working at the most mind-numbing office job I've ever had, I hope you enjoy it too.

Artificial Light

I sit.

The office is quiet.

Keen ears will note the echo of mouse clicks, key strokes in stereo.

Across the room an overbearing manager dictates a conversation over a subordinate.

A faceless voice drifts throughout the hallway.

All of this though means nothing.

A worthless flood of silence.

Useless noise.

The office is quiet.

I rearrange documentation sprawled across a laminated surface that reflects unnatural fluorescence.

Artificial light.

Work will keep me busy but its futility begs me to know that I am nothing.

Urges me to fear.

Ensures I do not move.

So I sit.

That which was once destiny is now a distraction.

Dreams are forgotten.

Life becomes existence.

I can only sit.

I sit patiently knowing that I am more than this.

I sit knowing that this is a prelude.

I sit knowing that this is only making me stronger and an enemy angrier.

I sit waiting.

A cursed environment could never take my soul before.

A scrambled confusion, a relentless craving, an emotional ache.

This has been my soul.

This has been my life.

An incurable sickness.

Heart disease.

Each day I sit I discover new tragedy as if love hangs crucified.

Even tolerance and justice swing suffocating from distant gallows.

Beauty and happiness are so often violated by jealousy and selfishness that the pump in my chest always seems to be gripped by guilt. Yet I will not be discouraged.

The blood drips into my eyes from beneath a thorn-ridden crown, the flogging cuts deep into my flesh and as I drag all the love I have remaining up Skull Hill I still dare to carry on.

I still dare to dream.

I still dare to hope because I am a protected son under a loving father.

Afternoon sunlight pierces through a crack alluding capture.

I sit forward in my chair.

My brain secretes rebellious chemicals that initially leave me restless but slowly plead for concentration. 

Dreams begin to resurface.

Life begins to stream back.

Like the screen in front of me, my mind begins to focus rays of thought, pixels of passion.

The twist and tangle of pages that crawl across my desk fade away.

A world of courage spurs me on, it pulls me closer to a passion that is slowly becoming my future.
Suddenly a whisper that is not from me but calls from deep within, reminds me that my purpose and destiny cannot and will never be taken by artificial light.

Finally I stand.