My gravity

Something in the sky catches my eye.

A glimmering hope passes me by.

I reach out to the bounds of my bindings.

And still am kept from claiming my findings.

Gravity pulls me down further than where I started.

Six feet from where I and the faithful ground parted.

From my hole, each revelation of damnation is a slap in the face.

I realize that always at my slowest pace comes the end of the race.

I reach out for the strand of crimson velvet that will set me free.

But at that point I trip and fall, then I raise my eyes to see that it was me who made me fall and my own gravity.