Orbital Gold

You carry a burden,

In the form of an anvil.

You were meant for it,

You have to finish it.

-

You walk in polluted land,

Clear water turned to dirt.

With no whispers, you believe,

No one to share you grieve.

-

Your arms, they want a rest,

But your mind disapproves.

Then the anvil answers back,

Its weight crashes down.

-

The momentum, the strength,

Cut off by the cruel anvil.

The burden below the bone,

It sleeps on your spine.

-

You screamed and tapped,

You started to squeal.

You grasp disgusting dirt,

You squeeze to hold on.

-

Then the anvil fade away,

The yellow light, eminent.

Golden treasure on orbital,

The cream wall, evident.

-

You look in the mirror,

Bloodshot eyes, apparent.

It was only a dream,

But the pain, still present.

-

The pain is still present,

It is frozen to gold.

But you flush it away,

Sad memories can’t be hold.