The Rubicon Deception Poem by bowdre bowdre jr

Its so hard to understand
why do we carry on in spite
when it would be so much easier to dive into despair
goose bumps up and down our bodies
as the bone-chill of it envelops us

There is no deeper sense of satisfaction
when the last vestiges of hope
succumb
and the rebounding surge of possibility
drifts over the horizon

The rubicon is only a mirage
a necessary self-deception
we grasp for the shimmering oasis
yet our soul lingers on