But while we are here we must witness the perpetuation of this sanction. I muse over our ephemeral time on Earth.
Oxygen is low. Behind me is a sudden change in scenery. The dank smell changes to a fresh purity. This open barren area is a change from the condensed forest. The idle shrubs look through me. But I can see they are only ghosts of their original selves. Stare, while sharp corners and acute bends of the path challenge me.
Higher.
Black rocks slip. Crystalline water cracks beneath me. The frozen air dries my lungs. Brittle breaths that blow out. I think my fit iron lungs are going rusty. There are thoughts of comfort pacing through my head while isolated in this vast open land. I think of luxurious moments in my life – lying in an overindulgent Lazy Boy chair, with a glass of tart, but aromatic red wine.; living it up. I’m now homesick because of these thoughts. I begin to shut down – the way of the world is trying his vengeance.
I stumble, grabbing onto a delicately placed shrub… I pull myself up but my eyes descend; I’m soaring well above everything. My heart is pounding, roaring; breaking out of its cage. The rock with ice as black as night, deceives me. He lays a curse on my feet, to stumble. I shrug it off and admire his trickery. To rectify the misstep is a blessing.
The hut is only one hundred metres away. I sprint there; the wind whirls past my ears in an abstract whisper. Finally.
A deep ominous blue pond is situated near the hut. I walk over to cleanse my hands, my soul. My eyes gaze at the centre, folding outward. Ripples seem to echo along the surface in an infinite rhythm. Beneath this pattern is a foreign façade- he has a rugged texture with a dubious expression washed on his face. Who was he? No longer was I in tune with who I was. Scepticism of the reflection shows the journey has changed me. Where to now? The hut is a geometric wonder. Now at peace, lying in this beauty. I can now sleep. I can be lost in a dormancy that can feel like an eternity. Tomorrow will be a new day of mental, physical and spiritual torture.
Oxygen is low. Behind me is a sudden change in scenery. The dank smell changes to a fresh purity. This open barren area is a change from the condensed forest. The idle shrubs look through me. But I can see they are only ghosts of their original selves. Stare, while sharp corners and acute bends of the path challenge me.
Higher.
Black rocks slip. Crystalline water cracks beneath me. The frozen air dries my lungs. Brittle breaths that blow out. I think my fit iron lungs are going rusty. There are thoughts of comfort pacing through my head while isolated in this vast open land. I think of luxurious moments in my life – lying in an overindulgent Lazy Boy chair, with a glass of tart, but aromatic red wine.; living it up. I’m now homesick because of these thoughts. I begin to shut down – the way of the world is trying his vengeance.
I stumble, grabbing onto a delicately placed shrub… I pull myself up but my eyes descend; I’m soaring well above everything. My heart is pounding, roaring; breaking out of its cage. The rock with ice as black as night, deceives me. He lays a curse on my feet, to stumble. I shrug it off and admire his trickery. To rectify the misstep is a blessing.
The hut is only one hundred metres away. I sprint there; the wind whirls past my ears in an abstract whisper. Finally.
A deep ominous blue pond is situated near the hut. I walk over to cleanse my hands, my soul. My eyes gaze at the centre, folding outward. Ripples seem to echo along the surface in an infinite rhythm. Beneath this pattern is a foreign façade- he has a rugged texture with a dubious expression washed on his face. Who was he? No longer was I in tune with who I was. Scepticism of the reflection shows the journey has changed me. Where to now? The hut is a geometric wonder. Now at peace, lying in this beauty. I can now sleep. I can be lost in a dormancy that can feel like an eternity. Tomorrow will be a new day of mental, physical and spiritual torture.
