Sitting there; that moment entirely, determined simply, the difference between life and death.
It’s funny how such a tranquil moment could have the potential to become that of a tragedy for some.
What intended to be an idealistic way of expression; merely ended in the gut-wrenching outcome of a poet’s tale.
One, hopefully involuntary move, compels you to linger in the balance for that split second.
Your fate lies in the hands of your sense of danger and urge of reckless behaviour.
How very righteous indeed is the act of refraining from revealing yourself to the chaos it would cause.
The seemingly sincere curve across your identity beforehand lit up the specific deed of storing a memory.
Whether slick water, the indented gravel or even the ‘required’ lust for additional self worth, is the new currency of which sways you to the apparent preferred edge, a certain born cannot win.
Time is yet but of the essence. I’d hate to discontinue a tender moment quite like that taking place.
Weighing you down is the intensity of a ‘newfound’ burning sensation triggering the vigorous salt leaks developing into a formation.
All natural sensations within you demolished into metaphorical ash. The evidence of your existence will appear to be no longer.
Well you may not muster an ounce of what happens to be stronger than fear – no longer will the right be yours.