Words... Words... Words... What are mere symbols and shapes on paper to describe the shattering apparitions I have seen and the stinging sensations that have pierced my life’s shackled shadow? Yet even as I weigh and measure these coarse characters on this page, pallid cold clouds swift over my remembrance.
Pounding waves carry my intentions to sleep and baleful, thundering storms still wake me in the depths of the night while the echoes of the vanishing angel’s voice whisper on. My mind now fills with the restless, boundless sea.
Reefs of jagged, black rock rise like lone pillars. Trying to crawl from underneath the swelling sea, they are ever forced adown under the relentless onslaught of the pounding green waves; deep green waves that rise up like arched wings, then fall and shatter upon themselves in foamy ruins. Thus is my life, ever surrendered to the shifting waters.