A Mango a Day

The nature of our relationship has changed once again;
As life shifts in opposing directions, the re-evaluation of our closeness is forced upon us.
No longer leaning on for material support yet no more emotionally independent than in adolescence –
Could I ever imagine a life of contentment in which my parents and I were not sailing together?

Of the frequency in communication and the miles that physically separate,
It would be injudicious to disregard the necessity for development apart from one’s kin.
For intentions are not truthfully goals if they belong to another,
As they could not reasonably be labeled as such if those responsible for their execution did not yearn for their attainment;
Yet if one could not share these milestones with the only people who truly care,
They would be for naught as meaning is peeled away chasing successes that are influential only to oneself.

Realistically, I am but progeny that devoutly serves my purpose as an endless liability.
I wonder at how you can logically justify the time spent in anxiety over endless possibilities of another life’s outcome,
Especially one who is admittedly deluded over all that is entitled from the world’s society?
Gratitude is owed yet that alone as compensation is nothing in comparison.
I am forever undeserving of your altruism and far away from the stability that would alleviate your concerns regarding my wellbeing;
The least I can do is ensure that your magnanimous efforts are not lost in translation.

It seems as if we will never stop perceiving injustices. Would we even know what Heaven was if we existed in it?
Should we be punished if we were ever to stop rejecting ourselves?
Endless ignorance and foolishness, our representation thereof.

Comfort and helplessness,
Sadness and hopelessness.
The inordinate urge to escape;
Where would we go?

And then we fall into the next trap. The thought of better prospects erased when we realize that we ourselves are in fact the ones responsible for turning our colourful realities into canvases of shallow, empty meaninglessness.

Est-ce que nous sommes vraiment plus forts que nos dérangements?

Our minds taint all that was once pure,
God’s gift distorted into empty darkness upon our contact.

We conclude that we are not meant to live out all of the scenarios, only to lose feeling and grow insensitive to the endlessness that surrounds.
What is beautiful cannot be discovered until we fully understand what is not.
Do you thrive on the overwhelming relief following rejection?

Abscise these wilted petals before the tree of life admits defeat,
Justify the ignorance of these anguished pleas.
You managed to hear everything else, conjuring up the rest
Until you finally procured enough tainted satisfaction.

Demean my crumbled soul while you retain your soundless sleep.
To you my psyche kneels, a notion quite surreal.

Why won’t you destroy what is yours and ridicule your own disintegration?
Leave me to bear my cross
Stop laughing at my pain.
I beg of myself to stop dwelling.

Then I’ll wake up to my reality, coming soon:
Death of optimism, barren, to a Wasteland near you.

Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere,
et cum illi pueri dicerent:

Sybil, are you not satiated by your fortunate lot?
If I could one day forsake my regrets I could begin to look for peace

What is this life but a deviant game of lottery and excess?
Inevitably, they pass judgment.