• bluepuppy01 80w

    Entry for Dark Side of the Moon Challenge #cees_dsm_chall

    The line I chose (credit to Roger Waters): "And if the dam breaks open many years too soon"

    Anyways, what this ended up being was a result of me sucking more life out of a particular poem thingy I wrote a long time ago called "Lost the Words."
    It has thus turned into a much higher quality Part Two of this poem, and I would appreciate it if you clicked on this tag > #blue_block to go read the little thing before continuing to read below (tho u don't have to cuz this is capable of standing on its own kind of, but part one I tagged you to above sort of explains a bit about why they're in this situation in the first place).
    However, there may or may not be a part three coming up after this eventually, so do what you will with that info ��‍♀️
    P.S. I mentioned feet a lot ish lol��

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    Perhaps Hope in a Poet's Purgatory

    ...And if the dam breaks open many years too soon...

    No, that’s not right, for the dam did break
    Long before the moment it was s’posed to;
    It’s not an ‘if’ question to be wondered about
    When the waters’ve already run shallow
    And everything you could write
    Has already been written 
    Since that one burst in time
    When ideas gushed out of mind
    And flooded the little ghost town
    Of a page with too many blank lines.

    I remember, back then, before the event, 
    Writer’s Block and me had met up
    So as to discuss how to rebel against
    The dam the ancient natives in power built 
    To block the thoughts of its citizens.
    We were stranded in an empty desert city-
    One we had found after daring to abandon 
    Our marooned ship called “Perhaps”
    On a shore of lava masquerading as sand.
    The dry heat assaulted us too fast,
    And the grains seeming to melt our toes
    Ushered us farther and faster away from the boat
    Into what the island before us had to behold.

    We entered a house among the ruins-
    Our feet relieved to meet a floor 
    Less likely to cause skin to smoke,
    Then reading beyond the stone-framed window,
    We analyzed the dunes 
    Of the home we were reduced to,
    Staying put where we were,
    Obviously, with nowhere to go,
    Not knowing how or where to get food
    Nor when the next drop of water 
    Would welcome our thirsty eyes
    Drained of tears and of the vision 
    We dreamed for our future as poets.

    A couple days passed by 
    In the purgatory 
    We were unfortunate to find
    Without having to sin to arrive
    Because of losing the words that got us there.
    Not much time was left for us to survive 
    If we didn’t get up and do something ‘bout it,
    So we risked exploring the dangers
    Of a realm dead-set on drowning us
    In the deathly static of a sweltering ocean.
    Barefoot, we traversed miles until,
    Finally, when the bones of below began to show-
    Skeleton visibly tracing our skin from underneath,
    A sight we desperately hoped wasn’t a mirage
    Appeared before eyes, bloodshot and squinted.
    A dam welcomed us like the oasis it was-
    Except, at the time, our withered minds
    Didn’t know of its volcanic status.

    We figured a dam equals water equals life,
    Denying any possibility of deception.
    As quick as our bloody feet would allow,
    We raced to the hope we thought we found-
    A way to replenish the drought within us,
    Yet the first problem we ran into
    Was how much was obstructed,
    Second issue: access was limited,
    Meaning we couldn’t reach salvation
    Without destroying the wall barring us from it,
    But if the dam was broken open,
    It’d flood the history existing behind,
    Waving goodbye to us along with said existence.

    To Be Continued...probably...