My feet are wet, but not cold.

My heart is tired, but not dead.

My breath is ________, but not _______.

I have walked a journey marked by blood and tears.

I am soaked, my soul is dried.

The path towards creation was designed when I was born.

I buy my sorrow in bulk and deliver my love in bits of drained gulps of wine.

"Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?"

I have flown to the infinite dreamland where lords protect the castles and dragons spit fire of spikes.

In this universe, I became the master of dissonant stories.

I covered my ears so I can't  hear the silent noise of colored dreams.

A whistle is heard in the distance indicating that is time to stop...

because the end of the road is coming...

It's been raining and my feet are wet.

Written on August 13, 2016.