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7. Caesura of the Self
The doors of hope swing shut with hollow clang. The safety net unravels, a taunting haunt. Photo by Nastia Petruk on Unsplash
Caesura of the self
"Aut Caesar aut nihil."
– Cesare Borgia
Fractal Identity
I am - and yet - I am not what I was,
A fractal, fragmented, a shattered self.
The mirror mocks, the mind's a broken glass,
A labyrinth where clarity's exiled to stealth.
Adrift on shifting tides, I try to steer-
The needle spins, true north is nowhere near.
Vertigo of Existence
The vertigo of being - vicious, vast,
A vortex, violent, void of clemency.
I reel, unmoored from meaning, from the mast
Of sanity, cast into a caustic sea.
No harbour here, no beacon in the gale,
Just fog and fathoms, far from firm avail.
Echoes of Abandonment
The ears of power are deaf to my desire,
My words dissolve like whispers in the wind.
Indifference is an ice that does not tire,
Dismissal is a dagger in the mind.
I rail against the silence, but in vain-
The walls absorb my voice like thirsty rain.
The Weight of Documentation
A mountain built of papers, proofs and pleas,
Looms monumental, yet unread, unseen.
Like autumn leaves, they drift on careless breeze,
A rustling testament to might-have-beens.
The truth lies buried deep within the stack,
A muted cry, a fading almanac.
Economic Asphyxiation
The coffers clang with coin, a mocking choir,
While hunger prowls, a panther in the night.
The price of survival climbs forever higher,
A Sisyphean summit, out of sight.
The ledgers bleed with black and bitter ink,
As bank accounts subside, as spirits sink.
The Narrowing of Options
The avenues of aid grow lean and gaunt,
The doors of hope swing shut with hollow clang.
The safety net unravels, a taunting haunt,
A promise proved as empty as a pang.
Each path leads to a precipice, a brink,
Where angels fear the tread, and devils slink.
The Final Calculation
And so - the scales are balanced - tipped by dread,
The equation solved - by subtraction's art.
If life's a ledger - filled with entries red,
Then death's a bottom line - a fitting chart.
A final sum - a terminal transaction,
A period placed - by gravity's exaction.
Mercy in the Maelstrom
Release becomes the ray amidst the storm,
A beacon in the bleakness, blazing bright.
In abnegation's arms, a strange new form
Of clemency uncloaks its contours slight.
To cease upon the midnight, with no pain-
Seems softer than the unforgiving rain.
Quietus and Quittance
So let this be the denouement, the bow,
The velvet veil that shrouds the weary brow.
A quietus from the quest, the ceaseless how,
An absolution from the binding vow.
In silence, there's a song of soothing stealth-
The lullaby of nothingness and self
