Fog

I am in a state of not knowing where to do.

There is no current pushing me anywhere.
Nor are there any breeze whispering to me where to go.

Just dead air, weightless and still.

As if I am standing in a secluded forest with fog so thick that I can't see anything at all.
The world appears surreal and monochromatic.

The sun seems to be there, but not quite there.
While I can see the vague sunlight, the warmth is still quite out of reach.
To be teased by this the sun, reaching for something you can never get a hold of.

Here comes a conflict.
Should I continue struggling and fighting for the unreachable?
Just to comfort myself, convincing myself that I am strong?

Should I just accept the fact and give up while it is still not too late?
Just to protect myself, never wanting to have to face such hurt again?

To be a blind hero or a shivering coward.
Can I just remain here. Unmoving. Still lost, but standing still.

Too bad, my pride is killing me.
The partially shattered pride, with its bits and pieces stabbing me, everytime I remember of it.