It dwells in the shadows of a distant underwater tomb, crushed between the rocks of loneliness and self-deprecating hate. Hidden from a world, sober and rich,in shambled poverty, it lies awake staring at an empty ceiling, wondering when this life will take shape.
Cold, naked, and numb, it awaits hope, to live beyond transparency. Extended tentacles grasp for energy, a miniscule beacon of light. It has awareness, an ultimate faith to become something more than shapeless.
“Pick me,” it calls from a remote foreign land, “I shall help you live and be as the world needs to see. Pick me,” it screams. But its voice is hoarse and those that pass need not. “There is a place for me, you’ll see.” It weeps in the darkness, holding its small flame. “I promise to shine, to be great.” And with a glimmer of hope, it awaits an innocent steward’s fate.
-RA Dolence, 2013