An Oblivious Existence

Staring into oblivion, his eyes see what he does not see.

He looks far and deep unto the horizon, he breathes what he does not speak.

His mind blinded by the light so bright

His eyes blinded by a desert of fright.

 

He sits with his legs crossed at the knees.

As the world in front, is buried beneath.

The sorrow wells, he turns to rock,

As time passes, his peace dissolves.

 

And then the life of his is distorted,

In the form of crystals and bruises blotted.

He’s ripped to shreds with complete dignity,

He’s a coward, a dog, a hog and incendiary.

 

His mind is pierced with the thought of thinking,

His heart smells the danger condensing.

And then he trusts what’s not to be trusted,

The earthly, the ecstatic and the worded.

 

Now, he’s old and brittle, decrepit,

But, he’s strong and stubborn, masculine.

He believes and endures what comes to him,

As he knows he brought it unto him.

 

A lover tries to console his soul,

The lover he has neglected and loathed.

He seems to forget, what he has never heeded,

Staring into oblivion, he’s rigorously rigid.

L'oeil, 2017
L’oeil, David Altmejd, 2017