
(This is about ideas that grow and then are destroyed in your mind somehow. I think. This one was plain odd.)
The idea is growing
Nurtured from inception
Gaining imaginary strength
As it evolves from flicker
To roaring bonfire
Traveling down my mind
It traverses tunnels
Running across my mindscape
Winding with sharp turns
That plunge into darkness
Only to erupt
Into the brightest light
The idea is growing strong
As it enters a wide space
Dotted with floating specks
And chunks of rot
From the ideas that came before
For I was too slow to save them
It does not see the wall
Bathed in razors, spikes, and fangs
Waiting for a fresh idea
Distracted by the open field
Who cannot find the gap
That will lead it to full life
My brainchild builds up speed
Heading toward the end
Blind to the danger looming
Threatening its short existence
As I am too busy to see
The destruction that will ensue
With a simple blast and groan
The idea explodes in gore
Feeding the quivering wall
That absorbs its newest feast
And belches out the scraps
That join the other fallen




Excellent, Charles, from another dreamer of dreams.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. 😊
LikeLike
So vivid and descriptive. But very sad. 😢😢😢 (Though there have been ideas in my mind that have died because I was distracted.)
LikeLike
Thanks. It really is sad when distractions kill good ideas.
LikeLike
These ideas always seem to hit me when I’m in the middle of a different story that I don’t want to interrupt.
LikeLike
They really don’t like waiting their turn.
LikeLike
Poor little idea
LikeLike
They never had a chance.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the Willy Wonka quote!
LikeLike
Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLike