For I wonder in the shadow with my head hang low. It has been a while, I note to myself, still counting the peebles on the black sand.
The sky overhead seems ominous and baleful of sinister wind circles me like a rough embrace of a snake.
Still, I keep going.
The thickness of my lashes smeared heavily on my eyes. It feels cold. My eyes feel cold.
Then I notice that the black sand beneath my feet had turn to white snow. Soft but like a cold kiss, it falls on my cheek.
Still, I keep going.
'Lost,' I whisper to myself. 'I am lost,'
Yet, my legs won't stop.
And like a thunder, it roars. It becomes so clear, the face of my doom.
Finding me,
Pararae.
Post a Comment