Angry at the sky

I used to be that guy who looked at the ground. I found beautiful things, rocks and plants, life growing and struggling, but ever triumphant.


Now I look up at the night sky. Lost, floating.

Ungrounded. Cold distant diamonds on a dark fabric of sky.

I see god, in that cold dark fabric, scattered with twinkling lights, i look at the night sky for answers, the night sky is cool and mute, it brings anger to my soul. Tears of frustration and betrayal

It makes me angry, the silence…

Once i was innocent, happy in my grounded, earthy world, hopeful, the future an unwritten opus. My sons were three, a perfect three. Life incarnate, immortality.

In the blink of an eye, while grounded ray passed the day in ignorant satisfaction, god took one away. The perfect three was reduced, culled, winnowed… Only two remained.

Shattered was the illusion of immortality.

I feel anger.

To know that your life work can be reduced to ruin, nothing, that all the good you did, nothing.

The shattered innocence of the unknowing, was too much.

Clipped were the bonds of reality.

So now I stare at the night sky with questioning eye, angered by the silence.

That cold dark silence.

My anger floating me further andfurther from the grounded earth.

©2012, The Autobiography of Mr. Perfect. Written entirely on my iPhone.

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