Ambition

There are billions that are born with eyes and ears, yet why are there only few that can truly see or hear?

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Is it an effort of passion or drive?

Or are we wolves

starving and wild

with Eyes who, luminescent at night,

cast an unforeseen shadow

in which the doe are left to be confined.

If we are to survive,

must it be every man for themselves?

Must we use claws,

dirtied and untrimmed,

to drag our beastly bodies along?

Claws sharpened by a society crude and unloving.

One in which money is power.

And power is everything

as we succumb to the hatred of inferiority.

We are beasts of our own nature,

more fearful than a wolf or bear,

and as we indulge in our worldly desires,

we shun our origin;

eager to obtain some form of physical share

whilst Nature goes unnoticed,

and “Beauty” becomes rare.

I was a sheep in wolf’s clothing.

Attempting to shield myself from vulnerability by being selfish to my possessions

or more so what I believed to be mine.

I was forsaken and desperate.

Desperate to be loved and desperate to shine.

Believing that beauty was equivalent to the image that one was to create.

I was desperate.

Ground my teeth, sealed my lips, and closed my heart.

I was hurting.

Unaware of the spirit that wished to embrace me.

I am hurting,

but no longer am I lonesome in my confinement.

I am lonely in my rather bareness, yes,

but I live in a solitude no longer desolate.

Beauty is one-of-a-kind,

and one that is not to be sold.

And if you are to seek you will find,

beauty is everywhere but where you’ve been told.

Blinded by my longing for a number,

one that was to embody the value of my being.

I traded beauty for a position

without really seeing.

Just how gruesome it is, this ugly ambition.

By Anonymous

From: United States