It is like a badly tuned film strip, disconnected in manners:connected in only one manner-it bears my fears.The sound varies ...night plays in morning and summers are dreary winters.I go on wobbling through a quicksand of faces,times, and situations, and everytime it wants to suck me in it....and probably put that final punctuation mark.I choke and fall, stand up and want to move again, but I am transfixed...something guides me to the a trecherous finality of things.I look around, can't,somehow my joints aren't working.A whirlpool follows it...and I see myself giving up...letting my one little wish yield to fate.Suddenly my eyes clear and I see a slit in the filmstrip.Through it I dive and I am removed from the vague singsong.It is silence I hear.But, then why can't my mind rest.Certainly it cannot be that easy.Something more ought to come.
It is waves that wash my feet.It feels so gentle,it tickles a bit.I want to see the sky...look up and find that waves adorn the sky.I ask something I cannot recollect.The racket was enormous.The waves reply something I cannot recollect.A surety begins to dawn.I was right, not so soon,something more.They are higher now, I can almost smell them....In my heart I say, I have seen enough of it, something new...and there I am saved from water....castigated with deserts.
Throughout I crave for a bit of reality, something tells me it is not real...all of it...and I know survival rests on reality...I blabber survival of the fittest...It pounded on my ears...till I could scream above the dry winds.
Twin seconds of conciousness, I find a comfort...it wasn't real...bloody dream...could have killed me tonight.The next second let's me know what woke me up.Just a name, and the lone plank on the wild waters, the lone breeze of spring in a century old sandstorm,the lone stir in a body six feet under humanity, the lone face of faith in a crowd.I blessed it...and went back to fight another war.
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