Fables and Revelations

Sitting, wishing, waiting, yearning for a new tomorrow or for a tragic end. To live only to die, to breathe only to cry. The weight that he has to bear for the sins of the world as the new day arises, the everyday Prometheus.

I always seem to return to water, the sound of the crashing waves, the water seeping into my ears. The soft popping sound in my ear drums, so gentle, rolling against my skin. Then a hum, a strange droning hum as I listen to the waters around me and the sound of my breathing. I want to lay here forever and be buried by the cool of the water away from the world. To float down the river, to be one with the streams, lakes, tributaries, and be part of the river.