Titanic

March 28, 2018

As the colors fade and slowly turn to grey,

I rise from the ashes, color blossoming from within me.

I hear a whisper behind me,

But I dare not look back.

As I look in front of myself, it dawns on me that I must walk,

F o r w a r d s,

The voices behind me whisper sweet nothings in my ear,

Telling me to walk back to them or once again become soot,

As I lift my foot off the ground,

s l o w l y

And set it down on the hard cement,

I nearly trip on myself.

The voices behind me are yelling at me,

Telling me to come back.

But I can’t.

For if I do,

My death will come soon,

They know of this and  try to convince me it’s what I

                                                                             want,

Another                                   foot                              forward.

I feel

         warm,

Then I hear my family’s voices coming from behind me,

Telling me I must stay.

That I can’t afford to leave,

That I’m hell bound despite my faith.

I blow them a kiss goodbye,

With tears falling from my eyes,

And pray that God will take care of me.

And then I see her,

Reaching               for               me,

And for the first time in my life,

I

  run.

I run as if I am one with the wind,

And in those moments,

I was.

Could this really be?

My dream?






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