The Quest

Composed for the prompt for Week Four of Micro Fiction March by Mina Howell

Mar 28, 2026

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It wasn't chaos,  
But,
not coming into my own, 
for too long… 
Mere survival, transitioning to 
feeling alive.
The pressure to congeal into
Digestible, accepted forms,
Ignoring my instincts, to follow norms.

Defying nature by hushing the turmoil 
With every disgruntled nod, 
unfelt smile, conflicting 'yes'es,
And instructions executed with precision,
Despite feeling 
naught, harrowed 
and empty inside.

I don't allow myself now,
To leave, unescorted, 
without this newfound voice.
I'm mindful of taking
My time and self-preservation, 
along with me,
Peace of mind follows.

Unfortunately,
Obedience wasn't seasonal in me.
The all-pervasive urge
keeps blocking me. 

It seems the world is ending,
has been for the past few decades,
Humans spiral into the absurd
At great speed.
Enticed by the decadence
of warped distribution 
of opportunities and capital,
true meaning of life and earth,
mistaken by the pockets that carry
Nothing of worth.

How sad, for this to happen
At the precipice of my rebirth,
When the possibilities I can
Now, envisage on my life’s horizon,
would be immaterial to the larger scale
of annihilation of life and desires. 

How inconvenient, 
That I have to tread 
Yet another journey, 
With no end visible.
Strife, my companion, 
Dread inevitable.