Breathless and awake, feet dangling just inches above the bottom. Toes scratching for secure ground. 

The wind stirs the restless stillness around.  Scattering those visions of tomorrow’s hope across a barren, plowed field.  Absolution is far beyond the nerves of outstreched fingertips.

The waves quarantine the air that is fighting to break through . The sun flashes off and on as desperation sets in, night seems to onset as a darkness cloaks  the skyline. 

Was there ever a chance to escape this comforting, rocking  tomb .  Hope seems like a mirage of temptations  that leads to false understanding of just how deep in we really are.


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