Opalescent lavender rocks
dispersed with gray granules of gravel.
A sunken treasure chest
and further ill-defined decorations.
Coruscating water.
Warped glass.
And beyond that,
my eyes can hardly understand what they see.
Light, yes,
that flings prismatic warmth into my blue enclosure.
Shadows,
my dancing companions,
spritely characters that flit across the distant walls.
And pellets of food
that rain from the heavens like shooting stars,
graciously supplied from an unknown hand
that robs me of any purpose.
My surroundings are twisted, distorted, deformed,
from the stance of my solitary fish bowl.
I can trust nothing but the water in which I swim,
an oasis of life in the arcane cosmos
where I can exercise my curtailed will.
I think
of the cruel hand that made it all
giving me a vast view of the world
only to etch the answers into its fabric
in some long-forgotten script.
of the blessing and curse that is this vessel
my cherished bowl
my precious soul
that I can never escape.
of the place I will go once I am gone,
when my eyes close for the last time
and my body falls like a dwindling flame;
will there be anything left among the wreckage?
therefore I am
a fish imprisoned by curved glass,
enveloped in the embrace
of the dizzying world.
Max Azuara is a sixteen-year-old student from Denver, Colorado. He has a passion for writing poetry and short stories, often finding inspiration in nature and the cosmos. Max is the creator of the blog "Poetry, Prose, & Popcorn," which is a testament to his dedication to sharing his work with a global community. In his free time, he would like to be found somewhere in the gorgeous Colorado mountains with a book in hand. His favorite novels include Cloud Cuckoo Land, The Great Believers, and Watchmen.
