Oblivious To Humanity's Final Days

• Jemma Smith, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2013

We will stay together forever, but behind those whispering waves of hope, a voice calls, praying that we will once meet. Today, we sleep among the summer’s lullaby, our eyes drifting, and I realise, that we are slowly dying. Humanity is fading, but just once, I would like that opportunity, to feel something. The life that holds us back, the life that supports our remaining pain, hushes our cries, pushing and pulling our fear of death. For some, there is no pain for our life to support, for we are beautiful. We are beautiful. We. Are. Beautiful. But that voice continues to hear, the conversations we regret, the love we once hoped for, and the pain that we suffer with. But do not end it, for we have so much to experience, I still have faith in humanity, but the world begins to pull that faith. The world plays with my feelings, making me just for once, wish to be happy. But no matter how many cries I shout, how many tears I shed, I realize, that that is just a possibility. The world saps away my happiness, my joy, leaving me to suffer forever, with the fact that I may never meet you. I listen to my heart, but my mind is louder, yelling at me to just let it go. Let it go. Ignoring all, I turn my head, and there you are, as angelic as ever. But are you really human? Are you really built up of flesh and bones? Does any intelligence lie in that head of yours? And if so, when will it awaken, I ask? The silhouette of feathered wings bruises me, and I understand now, that we aren’t human. We must lie to survive. We must love to be happy. Be happy. Be happy. But that voice continues to cry, shedding unheard tears, yearning for a friend in the world, one born from truth. But what is truth? What are lies? What is happiness? What is darkness? What is pain? What are you? Were you born from lies? Why must you lie? Why do you insist on holding that pain against my heart? Because it just doesn’t seem right. I am born from truth, although lies, has slowly begun to adopt my mind, but I fight. I will remain a daughter of truth, and I will fight for truth, to claim humanity, Once and for all. I’m not the understanding type, But I do understand, that you have become tied, to the harsh reality. The reality breaks you down, making you want to end it, to let death adopt you, but I will fight for you. I will fight, for hope, for faith, for humanity. Against reality, we pray, for a better world, a better world. But, with a heart strong, I stop myself from thinking these thoughts, these thoughts that tell me, “Lose faith in the world.” Will you ever leave? Will you ever return? Will you ever stay? Will you ever smile? For reasons beyond remembering, I close my eyes, the supporting life slowly fading. The light pulls on my heart, whereas the darkness fights it, pulling at my mind and the war begins. The war that keeps me living, keeps children of truth living, goes on, and blood drops on the battlefield. A different voice, quiet, shy, subtle, evil, lulls the first one away, the voice that tells me to fight. “Do not let that happen, my love, your blood cannot drip, you cannot fight. You are mine forever….” A beast awakens at the voice’s call, and only now do I understand, the beast is me, and I can end this war. I can end the thoughts, I can end the pain, I can be happy, by being me. The beast runs through the war, dodging bodies, and gunshots ring, as I run for the darkness. Escaping, I awaken, to find that I will always be a daughter of truth. No matter how hard one tries, I will be honest, truthful, happy, beautiful, me. Join me now, it is a risk that must be taken, a risk that we will not forget, a risk that we will love and cherish, in days to come. Death will not consume me, until the very end, where I will accept it, as my home. My happy place, where angels fly, where I shall live, in days yet to come. But can we possibly be sure of that? Or will I live in pain? Has the battle really ended? Or has it just begun….? I ask you, begging on my knees, to free me, from this pain and torture, we call “fear”. Has this fear taken over? Or is it only an illusion? Can we break this illusion? Can we be free?