Fragmented Memory: Drifting On The Other Side

I’ve walked these shores of shore to times I can no longer remember. Beneath this abyssal sky, I once thought this was the most magnificent land to ever grace my soul. But novelty had long died from the majesty and parallelism between the waves, the shifting sands, and the fragrance of an untainted sea. All I could ever sense since then were the ugly and the grim beckoning from behind.

Waters of a color belonging to a world unkind to mine would love to wash me away to the other side. I kept safe, away from it on white sands. The very same ones that urged me back into the waters. But I have no obligation to do as it wished. These sands are not my friends. These sands that consumed my steps and robbed my prints would swallow me whole if I stood still.

No, I have no obligation.

My journey under bounds I cannot grasp kept me awake at night and day. Underneath the selfish sky that traps all light, items of familiarity would fall to the seas and the sands. In time, one would fall into my hands; a book of a withered covered and missing pages. However, a second passed before it crumbled into a million particles of dust, as if I was denied the right to be with it.

What mad being dared to toy with me know not of what I can do to them. A voice from my lips, and they would kneel before me. A snap of a finger, and my men would swarm them. A letter to those hungry for wealth, and they would find themselves in a forever slumber.

I pray that the coward would reveal itself. I pray to be able to relax these tiring legs. I pray and hope that sometime soon this world would be a fleeting memory. But praying has helped me no more than the moment I’ve been here. I pray… that I no longer pray.

I know not of the world I stumbled upon, but I placed trust in the one who’ve sent me here.