Strange Sea
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"Strange Sea"
by: Wes Robert Ward
He sits on the pier dreaming of yesterday and tomorrow. In sorrow, seeing nothing more and nothing less, no nightmare of nautical sailor's delight, nor thoughts of thinking of mindful insight. No, this is not the end, for today is nothing more and nothing less than an illusion of his imagination.
"The sea is strange today, I think I'll stay."
In days past he was young and full of life. Through strife, armed with a invincible knife. Strong as an ox and ready to conquer the world with a flip of a dime. In his prime and within his hand he held a power to take what he needed, and not what he wanted.
"The sea is strange today, I think I'll stay."
What will the next day bring? Aging in a world of injustice and indifference. Green is his earth that he stands on, soon nothing more and nothing less than brown and decay. To say the land in which he loved will nevermore be what it ever was. Was it ever was is the question? Answered only in an assumption of an opinion.
"The sea is strange today, I think I'll stay."
Greyish Blue is the ocean that he peers upon in the non-sunlight of his epidemic existence. In a sense without a fence. Wave after wave of mental anguish washes away as the water crashes, clash by clash.
"The sea is strange today, I think I'll stay."
Deep inside the greyish blue lays the spirit of his soul drained from the hole of his heavy heart, torn apart piece by precious piece. Inside he thinks 'I am only an empty carcass of meat and bones, and blood and brain. Alas I wish I was more, yet I am what I am. Pain, endless pain, like an endless rain that fills the sea of my serenity.'
"The sea is strange today, I think I'll stay."
Breathing again the salty air that is not polluted by the principle of population. Planets come and go, though water fades away in time. What lies beneath is mud, it will dry to dirt in days to come which will drift away with the wild wind of cloudy weather like a floating forgotten long lost feather.
"The sea is strange today, I think I'll stay."
And so he sits on the pier dreaming of past and future. As for present he does not exist in the exinct form of his lost ego. Ergo, long ago and far away, never to return forevermore in days within closed or open doors. No, this is not the end, for his imagination is just an illusion.
"The sea is strange today, I think I'll stay."
'Ghost, I am, Ghost,' he knows now. And as he looks down into the cold dark sea he sees himself, his bobbing dead body, sinking into the abyss of endless dreams, or so it appears to seem, and so he sits on the pier, nothing more and nothing less.
"The sea is strange today, I think I'll stay."
The End. \ud83c\udf05
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