Thursday, 23 June 2016


There is no Mecca
At the end of my quest
From bed to unrest
I move
Through this urban jungle
Vigilant for errant
Beasts of metal and glass
Hungering for a resource we begin to lack
Crossing these lanes
A dangerous concrete terrain
As their masters
Are slaves
To a portable device
Connecting the entire world
To their careless
While their minds
Dominate the streets
Pedestrians, travellers
I move alongside them
Our daily shuffle
Amidst the hustle
On our pilgrimage for a paycheque
I take to my seat
Hot brew in hand
How many laboured in fields
For my luxury
As they live in poverty
While I sit at my desk
In a field of technology
Knowing so much
And yet so little
Of real world dichotomy
There are millions of us
With a vacuous stare
Blind to true blight
Consumed with day to day life
Surviving one more day
Of lattes and beer
While others starve
And live in fear
The only religion is that of a dollar
Our messiahs and avatars would be ashamed
As our day ends
And we sleep,
To awaken
And repeat the cycle again

Hello everyone!

I wrote this piece for the flashfiction magazine, 200-Word Tuesdays. I selected June’s theme of “Pilgrimage.” This month I was actually one of the folks who suggested a theme. A poll was done and mine was one of the themes chosen.

I drew inspiration by thinking what kind of modern spiritual quests exist for first world people.
 Thanks and take care!


No comments:

Post a Comment