A never-ending fall

Rain, ever so gently how it cascades down in a wonderfully fitting moment. How it strikes the skin, causing pebbles to form, a cold shudder to tremble deep inside, ravaging the soul. Cold to the bone, like shock treatment. Jumping into a lake of ice, and being reformed piece by piece. It is nothing without the wind.

A shrieking torrent that covers completely, pulling you to the ground in an endless tempest that never ends.

A quiet struggle to regain your balance when pushed too far, silent sighs in a dreary night of silence. Of course the prospect of such natural wonder is only intensified in the darkness of night. As the stars themselves flash to the beat of your heart.

No light to be seen, only a blanket of obsidian that forms itself to different perspectives. It’s in that darkness I can connect myself towards. It is abundant, the more you strain yourself, the less of it you’ll see. Sort of in the vein of a human heart, the power of a personality.

We are all covered in scars. The darkness helps to protect us from the pain of realization; a cloak to cover completely never allowing others to see the mark life has left upon you. I grow weary of the game, the pursuit of intentions good. The constant dull throb of a heart torn asunder into a fragment of it’s former self.

Most of all I believe, it’s the numb shock of growing older; the inevitable descent into madness that tears at me. I am bitter with it, the taint that flows in these veins, screaming for release into a new evolution. Freedom is only a sharp cut, a stroke to end all dreams. As the rain falls, formed from the dew of life, turning to crimson patterns upon my carpet. How sweet this last temptation beckons, absolute oblivion, without remorse. A final sleep never ending.