writing Twice into the River

[Pan the Fabulous Ferret 2,642]

Once again I lay my head down to rest.

Once again into the nether known as dreams.

Im left without understanding and reason.

Im left without hope of rescue from my peril.

 

What is my peril?

I do not know.

But what I do not know saves my soul.

You see, that which remains creeping in the shadows?

Ther it stands on the brink of discovery, as I throw myself into the water.

First my toes touch,

They are greeted by the harsh reality of frost bitten cold.

Now onto my knees that are thrust into the water,

still unbearable, is the frost on the river.

Next my thighs,

And by now the true feeling of the frozen river grips me tight.

Im paralyzed by the time my torso reaches the tip of the ice.

Now be my face under the water mixed with salt and ice.

My arms fly round waveing desperately in an attempt to keep afloat,

in vain, it seems.

 

Now Im drowning, falling it seems.

 

I fall once more into a river, not of ice.

But rather of flames and razors.

And once again into the river I fall.

Toes, to knees, to thighs and torso,

Following suit by my head.

Im drowning in fire and bleeding the same.

 

Now I miss the frost, and the salt with which to clean me wounds.

That is my pain, that is what you asked.

 

That looming shadow, it still taunts me.