You see, my legs grow fatigued
from chasing that pristine banner
to and fro.
They told me to pursue it,
for my ephemeral sense of commitment
is what caused the cosmic
weariness of my soul,
but I look and only see
white flag of surrender.
Oh, if only I could catch it
and finally feel the peace
and tranquility
of parting from my soul,
that gluttonous parasite.
It consumed love like a famished beast
and when I cut it off and
fed it no more,
it turned on me and devoured me whole.
They called it suicide,
but the detached duplicity of my
soul and my mind
constantly waging war on
one another
must certainly render it murder.
I've spent my life
working off the debt of
those who came before me
and took this soul for granted.
The split seams and the patches
deceived me into seeing my actions as
merciful, not vindictive,
but I would rather spend my life
running
than firmly rooted in the Earth.