I look for comfort in billowing spume.
Thunderous. Luminous. Vicious.
Circular motion then thundering roar
That’s where my heart can soar.
That body. That body.
That mass. Oh my.
I can barely hear the seagulls cry.
I seek comfort in it’s swishy gurgle
Its undulating moves.
Its undertow , high and low.
I can ride this beast
But can never conquer it’s swell.
I’m driftwood .
Bobbing. Bobbing. Babbling.
Rushing to shore. Rushing to shore.
Then poof….. No more.
No more me.
Only soft yellow sands
Formed from a million things that were once tough as rock.
But are now full of footprints.
There’s a long luscious list of reasons we should
But a jagged emporium of poisonous consequences
Jars upon jars upon shelves upon walls
Filled with outcomes. Black outcomes.
They swirl around like mini-galaxies
Holding us both hostage to our decisions.
It’s not just one you see?
All the things that led us here
A million ways we can go wrong
Let’s sit here for a while. On the safe floor.
In the room without a door.
Where the only way out
‘Oh to die a hero’
Is there anything better?’
Assuming we’ll feel pride when we are dead.
So you believe in the afterlife ?
No. No. No.
Then why bother dying a hero?
But if you believe in more
You believe in a soul
Then dying for the right thing
Must be your goal.
The terrible thing though
Is that what you deem to be true
Is completely different to my point of view
So please never ever, cause alarm
It is not your destiny to do harm
You must not interfere
It is never your role
To decide the passing of another soul.