Sealed are your lips as rage slammed inside your chest. Dry are your tears as your sighs mutter, "Oh, this is life again." Dropping your sword, crouching behind your tattered shield, you, empty as a dusty leftover chamer, believe there's no more battle for you to fight.
Now you can gaze upon the hurricaine beyond your windshield in a destructive serenity while your flesh dissolves into the sadly singing wind. Your toes playfully throw your weight around cliff edges.
( this is the dance of the lost minds. )
Shipwreck, shipwreck in the mirror.
There might not be anything better than wanting to die in calm transparent turquoise water where shells gleam and dolphins play. Never have you denied, though, how you crave for the hands that made you rise out of the sea, for that voice of a loving child:
"Found you! Welcome home!"