For the Sunday Muse prompt # 112:
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Sometimes I carry
the weight of the world
upon my head, its heft
held between the twin peaks
of forgotten and accepted things,
a history curated not
by those who waver
at the threat of war
but those who embrace
its vagaries, who daily
pour out a libation
to destruction.
What seems like the stillness of a boat in quiet waters only hides the furious paddling of a mind being torn apart as it wrestles with the tension between conforming and desire.
This is how one keeps dismay at bay, until someday in a moment, unexpected in its coming and ferocity, it ignites.