To Dissolve
Cold and unforgiving, the wind passed through him like an empty echo. Rigid and encompassing, he shivered as he stood on the bridge. Finally, deciding hesitation was his enemy, he jumped into the river. He emerged from the water, swimming in place just for a moment, holding his stage. The river however, had its own direction. He drifted down stream, not violently or forcibly, but like a guiding hand, a hand that you trust for no reason.
For a while, he followed, not questioning or protesting, but simply drifting. One with the water, one with the current that didn’t hate him, that didn’t judge him, it simply was there. In the black little thoughts swam with him but they refused to drown. They laughed and giggled, it was all in good fun. No fear, nothing to fight, he knew he would be all right. He looked up, at the faces ashore, his past and future stared. Glaring and nodding, perhaps even agreeing, they didn’t understand him. They too walked to their own accord, seeing him as nothing special. Why would he think this time would be different?
Lights, stars, the city thrived around him. The lights only shined left to right, he remained in the dark river, the dark thoughts still swimming around. They told him heaven was a bound. Walls sat around the river, not permitting anyone to leave, like ripples on a blank shore. He swam to the walls, trying to climb them, trying to leave, missing the light and beauty of the city that so few could appreciate from the dark.
Deep down in the water, the dark thoughts spoke, “Don’t leave, down here you’re the king!” They stared in his direction, wanting him to fall under their discretion. He turned away from them, held up pride and defied, wanting to escape the thoughts of hate. He climbed up the walls. Slipping and falling, he couldn’t make it out. Still he drifted down and down, heaven was a bound. Only know in his actions, can he find his ignorance.
Holding up his crimes, to survive, he wanted to get out. The silent ghost walked past, not staring in his direction. But still, he climbed up the walls, still he fell down and still the dark thoughts reassured, like megaphones they screamed his name. Some even whimpered, telling him who he should have loved. His souls lurked above. Then, happening all the once, they sprang into action.
Dark thoughts swam to the embrace of the water; the white souls lunged down for him. Tranquility gone, violence arise, his body screamed in pain. The dark thoughts whimpered for no tomorrow. The white souls sought forgiveness and sorrow. Like a puppet, his limps cried and dangled. No one says life isn’t painful.
“Don’t go up the walls,” the thoughts echoed. “You’ll lose everything.”
“Don’t go underneath,” the souls cried. “You can’t admit defeat.”
Both sides pulled and struggled, he whelped in pain, but no one cared. With everything to fear and everything to lose, he didn’t even want to choose.
“PLEASE!” he screamed all so loud, “PLEASE, PLEASE, not this time!” The dark thoughts fell to the bottom, the souls atop rose above. He turned and looked down the river, a waterfall in his wake. Calm and relaxed, he trusted the river. He knew in the end, he had nothing to fear, nothing at all.
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