OVERCAST

I stare at the blankness of the chaos around me
As a breather from the chaos within
Will it still be called chaos when the answer's there
Already but it's covered by transparent layers?
In five cycles of the minute hand, I will be reborn
Will I face the answer then? Or,
Will I continue to wear out myself
In weighing the choices I have?
Options can sometimes be a curse,
As difficult as when there are none
But what is there to learn
Than to be a decisive one?
I stared at the blankness now within me
The chaos has blurred underneath
And blackness has wrapped my wholeness
Paralyzing me in this moment
My lips are sealed, tongue tucked in my throat
"I flit, I float..." and so the song goes...
The skies are heavy but the rains do not come