The Wave Prison

And I keep having this dream, that I am inside the tunnel of wave, standing on top of the water. Everything is so blue. The liquid torrent rushes and moves. And somehow the gleaming blades of light penetrate through the thick but translucent shield around me, sparkling and flickering.  The ends seem miles off in either direction. And I can feel the strength of this moment.

I can see it rotating still, the water, it's infinite power, how it continued, never caving and never folding in on itself. And yet not moving. The creatures below kept constant pace, swimming and living. And I was still.

I could walk the bounds of my impossible prison, but the ends never came. Always there was just a little more to travel, are little farther to go. I could never win.

And every time I know my time is dire. This semblance of peace and power is a lie. It's malice is something felt, not seen, like the sureness one has before waking. And with this same sureness I know my own power. I can feel the skimming along my veins, the pulsing rush . I must be alight, with life and light. A torch in this vile place.

I know that if I direct my focus, my energy, I can blast a hole through this nightmare. I can flee, take to the wind and join my brothers among the stars.  

But I never can, there is a taste of wrongness in the air, a certainty that something would be lost. And in that moment of hesitation and fear my light flickers and dies and I am consumed, never to be revered.