In shadows profound, where quiet talks,
A game unfurls, slippery, grim.
Not of the heart, but rather of the brain,
A labyrinth of contemplations, where truth is visually impaired.
The murmurs contort, they curl, they weave,
Like ghost dreams that won't ever leave.
Each uncertainty a seed, each seed a catch,
In tangled trap of unpretentious consideration.
Who holds the way to break the spell?
To ascend from where the reverberations stay?
An inquiry posed, a reality denied,
In halls where fears live.
The psyche is sharp, yet delicate as dirt,
It twists, it shapes, it tracks down its direction.
Through vast circles, through quiet shouts,
It assembles its walls, it tears its creases.
A look, a word, a passing look,
Can set the stage, can begin the dance.
A fight battled, yet all the same won't ever win,
A race started, yet distant from done.
The game is old, as time itself,
A riddle locked inside oneself.
The guidelines muddled, the stakes obscure,
The moves are yours, yet not your own.
Is it rout, or is it play?
Is there a decision, or simply delay?
The line is dainty, between the two,
At the point when brain games obscure what's bogus and valid.
However still we play, we pursue, we fall,
Through each ascent, through each wall.
A brain at battle with what it looks for,
In vast circles of contemplations that talk.
The game goes on, through night and day,
A quiet chess with shadows dim.
Be that as it may, some place profound, past the cloudiness,
Lies harmony for the individuals who leave the labyrinth.
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The Ritual of Winter Challenge Winners
Welcome to the Winners Announcement for The Ritual of Winter challenge. This prompt focused on winter rituals and the meaning that settles into them over time. The top pieces stay grounded in ordinary acts and repeated routines, letting winter shape the work through pace, attention, and restraint.
By Vocal Curation Team7 days ago in Resources
Comments (1)
I loved your choice of image, the maze mimicking the appearance of the brain. The words bringing the inner workings of the brain to life, figuring it out through contemplation - unlocking its powers or the way it defeats us. I love the way you express that its truth is visually impaired. (The moves are yours yet not your own) powerful expression of having control but yet still not prepared for its next move. I love the sophistication of your prose here too, it works at holding our attention, bringing a sense of seriousness and a call for action. Absolutely blown away by this piece.