A Poem: A Hero's Journey

A Hero’s Journey

In my room I watch the light,
The wind’s blowing out of sight,

Windows above, a view outside,
And there I wonder when is night

In my bed I watch the door,

Hearing footsteps scrap the floor,
Strangers or beasts, hands or claws,
Yet there I lay, same as before

I heaved a sigh and sat straight up,

Looked to my left and spot my cup,

Plastic and worn, I filled her up,

With water from tap covered in grub

There’s not much to do, no sight no sound,

The light from my flame’s wasting, not found,

I know my myth will ebb in this enclosure,

With nothing to do and minimal exposure

 At times I thought of things from past,

Things of old that flash by fast,

It seems redundant to see them again,

What then are memories, if not the pain?

I remembered all my evil decisions,

And the one that put me in this position,

Sometimes I lament my irrationality,

To what I once thought of as “just necessity”

See, when one was allowed so much time to reflect,

With nothing to do and no one to connect,

Your mind will wander and talk to itself,

It goes in hyperdrive, excavating great wealth

A time suddenly came when it all makes sense,

Everything that had happened until present tense,

The things I saw, and the things I did,

The things that made me grow from a seed

See, I am what I am from my own experience,

The people around me created my presence,

The realisation that I am the Hero of this story,

Was the turning point that lifted me from my state of Sorry

The Hero’s story is how a person like me,

Sets out on a quest, able and free,

I reap what I sow, and I get what I seek,

In a life that is uncertain, from crest to peak

Everyone starts off the same little being,

Small and tiny, with arms all flailing,

Then came the Influences that engulf the child,

That shape who it will be through test and trial

At some point I think, the child understand,

That life is unequal but peppered with chance,

For though circumstance seems to decide one’s fate,

The Hero have some power to change their trait

That is life, and the possibilities for failure,

The uncertainty and allure for greater adventure,

The Hero must overcome all setbacks with belief,

To win the hearts of people and establish one’s myth

Suddenly one morning, I rose up so quickly

From the cold hard floor, I’d slept on so soundly,

My heart beats fast and head shook violently,

My teeth were gritted, and fists clenched tightly

What am I doing? My head screamed out,

A Hero, I am! I want to shout,

It can’t end this way I shook my head,

Please, God, help me, I silently said

One day, I heard the sound of music,

The beat and rhythm, Was it a trick?

I can’t remember how long it really has been,

Since I last heard that awful wonderful din

One day, I got hold of a plain old book,

Emotions welling up, with my hands I took,

With each page turned my mind tore the book asunder

I could hear it all; the author, his thoughts, like thunder

It was at that moment I realised the great enormity,

Of the potential of Influence to cause calamity,

For a small book, the author had created,

A myth, an idea, in my mind they mattered

Then I stopped. With darkness around, I breathed in deeply.

There’s not much to do, no sight no sound,

The light from my flame’s wasting, not found,

I know my myth will ebb in this enclosure,

With nothing to do and minimal exposure\

For the Hero’s Journey, the Hero must be free,

To create his myth, his legend, his story

So in the end, everyone will know,

His thoughts, his vision the mystic ‘Hero’

In my room I watched the light,

The wind’s blowing out of sight,

Windows above, a view outside,

And there I wonder… when is bright