Monday, May 3, 2010

Driftwood


Born into a reality that he had no hope of defining or affecting, he accepted the cruel trappings of fate. At a critical moment, he woke from a lucid dream of never-ending mazes when he chose to tread the path less chosen. On his awakening, there was clarity - and never was clarity bestowed on another so bereft of reason.

The hollowed out shell of the world he participated in screamed out in utter silence. Oh, he still had his options, but his options were too limited to be different. All in all, the beginning and the end was what he chose to perceive it as. Saddened beyond the infinite stretch of human hope, he woke that fateful morning to relish everything he had. He held what he always had in a way that lingered into eternity, his body striving to record everything like the parched desert soil absorbs the rain. Into the darkest corners of his emptiness, he let the light shine. He tenderly reached out to the promise of a future he would not behold.

With a single tear rolling down his left cheek, a symbol of the hallowed seas of fate, he stepped into the busy double-lane traffic - closing his eyes just as his feet touched the asphalt, imagining what heaven would hold for the broken...