The Cost of Ambition is Blood
Benjamin Wilson
A drop of blood falls from my nose.
A trickle,
Then a river rushing down, painting my palms red.
I stare, do not stop it,
I just watch my life fade from vibrant to black.
Constantly attempting to hold on to my strength, will, and sanity
What hope did that dam of twigs have of holding.
The pounding pumps of the heart had to release.
The rising flood is always too much for the vessels.
My Spirit is cleansed by Blood.
Once the tide is stemmed I wash away the dry, caked residue.
Become renewed in my endeavors,
But that dam will bulge and break again,
What hope could it ever have in holding.
Benjamin Wilson (Hughesville, PA) is a Junior Religion major with Art History and International Studies minors with a focus on Cross Cultural Comparisons. In his spare time he a sprinter for the Susquehanna track and field team. After graduation in 2012 he is hoping to attend graduate school for Archeology, and ultimately end up as a college professor in that field or Religion. “While studying abroad last semester in Cyprus, and visiting places like Israel, Egypt, Croatia, and Austria I just felt inspired by the world around me and I have been writing like mad ever since. I have always been a very avid reader and I thought it was time to take a stab at the other side of things.”
Issue 5
2011