My Fear Is Oblivion
I fear a world with no people,
Only walking bags of meat, dripping with the sick ooze of apathy,
Who with one sloppy step after another,
Can just barely muster the consciousness needed
To walk the path, made of broken dreams and rubble, laid out for them.
I fear a world with no places,
Only empty roads and pathways,
Decayed railroads littered with scraps of paper and trash,
Where dull weeds congregate
Under the sky, standing tall, gray, and lifeless,
Only memories of coming and going, never staying, never stopping.
Only the places we pass by, hidden beneath the trees,
Remnants of times long gone, long forgotten.
Where memories of plates and kitchen utensils
Clinking against each other and supple family dinners,
Where the laughs of the tired, and the giggles of the young
Join to sing the song of life,
Are alien traditions.
I fear a world with no time.
Where the painful tinges of “what-if,”
The angst and agony of wondering “what will,”
And the long full torment of “what has,”
Never ends.
Where the message sent tomorrow, is the same one heard yesterday.
Where the pain we feel tomorrow, is the same one felt for years.
Where everything inside you stays the same,
and everything outside never stays the same.
I fear living in this world.
Jorge Avila is a graduating senior at Champlain College in Burlington, VT, pursuing a major in Game Design and having attained a minor in writing. Though not his common choice of medium, Jorge enjoys exploring darker emotions and metaphysical themes in his poetry, and continues to explore those themes in his other avenues of creative work.
