A Mad-Man's Drowning.

Adrenaline courses through

My veins

Air whips

Around my head

My bare feet barely

Touch the ground

They fly on air

Instead

The wind is howling

Brewing,

A storm

Thunder claps nearby

Symbolism

Plans it out

Black clouds

Good deeds

Awry

A demented laugh

Escapes my lips

I push myself

Faster

My mind runs through the

Possibilities

Of my favourite

Disaster

The wind catches me

In its icy arms

I squirm

To struggle free

And as I watch

It dealt the cards

Spontaneous

Debris

Water meets my

Long parched lips

I gulp the liquid

In

Tis full of salt

I do not care

I drink it

With a grin.

I watch myself

Down below

Get smashed against

The rocks

My ears are filled

With the ticking noise

Of a hundred

Thousand clocks.

The light emerges

Sheepishly

Like it has done something

Wrong.

I embrace its warmth

Happily

And sing its roaring

Song