A Surrendering Ship
A Surrendering Ship My eyes fixed to the receding ocean in all its glory it sends the beaming sun away. Reflecting with a purity of golden orange. My skin, kissed by the fluttering winds as I sit at ebb of the waves. Casting each of my thoughts to the morning horizon. Fleeting my heart becomes, destitution begins its journey from my heart, to my mind. I feel myself succumbing to emptiness. The forbidden fruit of surrender, surrounded by lush fields of green, as butterflies of pearl white flood the summer air. I feel weak, like a rotting tree, collapsing to the bitter seasons of change. I grip the sand with both hands, squeezing with intensity. I lift my hands and look to them, the sand falling from my compressing grip. Tumbling to where they started, where they came from. Never to move, unless forced by nature. I think, am I but these grains of sand? Moved only by the ever uncertain cosmos. I feel as if I am, for nothing seems to ha...