Tony DeLorger © 2016
In the wake of uncertainty’s lull,
there must be movement, a decisive step,
for the weight of stagnancy
is a festering malignant growth,
devouring us from within,
and pain is its first port of call.
Truth may not render itself,
yet choices need part that forked road,
and abide we must to their consequence,
if only for the need to forward move,
to choose a path from stillness,
which in passivity, begins to decay.
Stillness then, in decay,
brings us to disease, to imbalance and weakness,
for we learn not of life,
when it remains in one dimension,
like a painting of imaginations wealth,
a delusion of reality.
The reward for inactivity is ambivalence,
a relenting of connection, of purpose and aspiration,
all of which forge shells of impervious rejections,
isolation that reveres silence in void,
without contention, no hurt,
without acceptance, no love.
Ambivalence is then the wake of uncertainty,
fear of direction a curse of sorts,
rendering a life cold in fixture,
and without the courage to move on,
we are stuck within its claws,
and our stride cut short to a purgatory.
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