Cocoon Marooned

Static on the television,

Wondering how things stagnated this way,

Staring up the same old patch of stunted growth on the ceiling.

Somehow the mind waivers with ideas but only to return to its limitations,

Breaking point appears to be harder to achieve with plateauing of neurodevelopment.

As the emotional meltdown threshold seems to be more vivaciously alarming,

At least it felt like that during the mere present times,

Only to envision evolution would gradually happen someday,

To be documented in some form of glorified literature,

But only for people to highlight the externalised reformation,

Apathic of the internal welter,

Predominantly postulations if ever to wander.

Big vivid dreams within encapsulated calcium plates,

Incarcerated inside on how the institutions dictates,

Locomoting to the ladder of the demanding values,

Splitting nations into extreme and or reverse expressionisms,

In effort of redefining where the new midline would endure,

Or silent would be the only answer,

Or just a metaphor of the big picture,

Contemplating on returning to the basic nature,

while tolerating the pioneering concessions.

Like a floating cocoon in the vast volume of brine,

Displaced by the waves of battened sublimity,

Nomadic explorations to find a purpose,

Avoiding or embracing the treacherous waters,

Marooned in any form of weather,

Awaiting for the cycle breaker,

Or ultimately to subconsciously surrender.

Written by Kaiwyn

24th October 2022

Monday, Citigate