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
