Go – the farthest land waits just beyond the horizon, towards a setting sun that will never rise on another side. A man that dreams, a child that sleeps, a woman that cries; all fade into the endless pink that streaks across the sky as it returns to its going coming.

If there is a way to end the life that follows the yellow circle, tell me so that I may follow its direction; surely, there is another shape that lies in the reflection of the sea that I set to sail. Surely there is another meaning to find that can never be placed in any book, or grabbed by any mind.

Come – the farthest land beckons its weary towards the sitting place, high on a hill, where they can rest at last. Oh, the resting place - that is above all which is cruel and tiring; it is terrible yet welcoming, close to the sky and above the realities of the city.

Forebode – a blinking sky strewn with nothing but glass, with the city of greed and shine below; I reach my hand toward it, but pull back at its hard cool. My eyes stare back at me, wondering and scared…my eyes stare back at me, and the eyes of the endless blink back again, with the eyes of those that walked with me, towards me, and away, with the city of the ground before them.

Trapped between the two – yet calling – without choice, without a stand, I look towards the sky and wait.

My eyes, that which has betrayed me the most, look up toward you, my shining moon, in the sky. Frozen in place, I look to you for guidance, finding your arms held out to me in that cruel gesture. I will not take it, for your fingers will never close around my shaking ones, and I will never find your smile as kind as I did the first time.

            It is like looking at the sun, only to find it harsher with each dimming glance until I am blind.

How hard it is, to stand within the moving tides that pull towards you, all running to your hand and falling through the gaps between, returning to itself as whole as it will ever be, save for the drops that lovingly slide down your wrists.

            With locked gazes, I can not help but wonder who you are looking at, if it is to me or the ones around me, I will never know, but for now, I will follow the sinking waters to your grasp, but I shall keep my hand reached towards the burning sun, and I will take neither.