I can't feel but trapped under this vast, endless pattern of stars and sounds amidst a long stretch of highway; far detached from civilization. Is it my fault I feel so alone here? The soft sounds of the serene night pulse with obscurity that I have heard before however, vaguely.
Jasmine hints across my senses; folded with thick scents of embedded asphalt, but can I breathe this peace?
I am alone with many voices in my head, speaking the same language, whispering with the same tongue. Creeping behind me a past full of screams and torturous taunts of childhood nightmares. In front of me splayed a million paths layered in a vicious and violent sea. Whose turn is it?
The tide is right and the waves of ample height to ride the free pull of the moons gravity. I feel that nature says more than what I hear in the crashing crests of the waves, commandeering the sand, eroding time and memory.
Speak to me more often than I am willing to listen, oh Mother of Urstoff. Where shall I be delivered in the places between the stars and along the sullen shoreline?