Curse or Blessed
By Mark Nuñez
Distant echoes dangling by a rope; grasped by the sweaty palms of an uncertain future.
Ti:me, in it’s perpetual elegance, constricting ever so beautifully.
The pathway, narrower. The finish line, farther.
Hearts ablaze, emotions fierce, as they draw in closer.
Stars out. Moonlit night.
He sits there on a throne of lies. Knowing. Watching. Waiting. For me. For you.
Cursed or Blessed? I ask myself this. Joke on me? On us?
Ants on a hill. Bees in a hive. Shits and grins.