“The Seventh Sense” by Tiffany Briery

I am the innocent, ignorant youth

Blind to what I see

I am content to seek the truth

To hope for the future to be

A place where peace and beauty will thrive

Oh, ignorant, innocent, me.

I have not bitten the apple of insight

Its taste does not appeal

Or if I've taken a loathsome bite

Its rot, the fatal meal

Has yet to infect my compassionate mind

My will, it has yet to steal

I live alone in a world of ideals

The past silently shines

With a power to sift through the infinite reels

A picture we cannot rewind

It clears away the trivial, the mundane

Only grace is left behind

These stars of grace, of life ideal

Shine through the dark, cold night

I stretch up high that I might feel

The burn of this lovely light

I reach in vain for none can endure

The pain of this futile fight

This quest is pain to my soul of innocence,

Unworthy, I'm aware

This quest is pain to my soul of selfishness,

Whose one and only care

Is to capture its bliss and lock it away

A feat I resolved to dare

At last I seized a glowing star

Consumed its glorious flame

But its brilliancy was too great by far

For my body to contain

It pulsed through my soul; then my heart did burst

It left me all the same

The rays of life escaped my fingers

Through my eyelashes too

The pain was unbearable, it continued to linger

But secretly I knew

This ignorant youth had a hush-hush plan

And now it had come true

My satisfaction had been gained

My purpose was complete

My passion finally was explained

From this image of defeat

“At last,” I cried “they see what I feel”

My ecstasy was sweet

Yet no one turned to look

At the innocent, ignorant youth

They simply ignored her noble feat

Too weary to see the truth

This rot of the apple she spoke of before

It gave the people sight

Not of beauty or love or peace evermore

These were much too trite

They saw miserable things like hatred and war

They sunk deeper into the night

This night sky contained no star

The darkness was complete

These creatures of habit concealed a deep scar

They had been jaded into retreat

They questioned no answer, they searched for no cause

Their world was completely concrete

They once had been like the ignorant child

Filled with wonder and awe

They had marveled love and often smiled

When pondering the world that they saw

But problems and feelings had faded away

With the appearance of a flaw

This flaw was sly, without mercy, it crept

It was the deadly seventh sense

It muted the mind, emotions just slept through the tragedy which was immense

The other six senses died in the soul and the seventh was all that was left.