In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Helpless.”
Helplessness: that dull, sick feeling of not being the one at the reins. When did you last feel like that –- and what did you do about it?
Dull feeling? One should’ve had that already these days as one is watching growth of people around filled with joy and prosperity. Their dreams are starting to bear fruit and fame is a glory they begin to archive. Back there is a stash containing one’s plans, dreams, and supports but dreams are the only thing left.
One’s eyes have gone dry as well as one’s lips. Words have long gone and been replaced by swords. Countless drops of tears, sweats, and even blood have been shed in the name of forsaken journey. One has counted in years since one started the journey to make oneself able to stand again. However, it has been too heavy and there one starts to cry.
As one of the few without reigns, one might feel a bit of anxious. One might think of looking for help as one is walking now towards several doors where no one is there to answer the knocking. Their houses are empty since they have gone to unreachable celebration, commemoration, anniversary, or whatever alike.
It is not a cry for help. It is a cry for oneself since being unable to achieve anything burdens too much. Even walking hurts and drains one life strength. As year goes, one becomes even more helpless, clueless, and older. Such makes one wonder if this is really one’s destiny to stand on sideroad giving applause to those marching towards greatness.
Now that everything has turned to ashes and one has flipped the hourglass once more, one has to make a stand once again. In limited hours, one decides to travel back the road collecting pieces of one’s mind and regroup. Discussion about what should’ve done and shouldn’t shall be in order again. One understands time is of the essence but somehow one needs to climb that extremely tall building once again even the bleeding hasn’t stopped yet.