When footprints lose identity..

She didn't know what she was doing there, it was late and her heart yearned for home, for shelter, for arms of a lover, for anything that gave her comfort in this world, yet she stayed. She walked along the dark shoreline. Barefoot, step by step she moved on. She could see the crooked rocks in the distance, a safe distance. Watching the lashing waves in the gleam of the moonshine, she questioned herself, Why is it so hard?
He watched her from behind the trees as she stood on the beach, her hair whirring in the wind, her body in tune with the waves. She glittered like a diamond among ash, her hair like drops of sunshine, her skin glowing in ripeness. He wanted to run to her and reach out, say something, say anything to make her feel better. But he didn't. Standing there, only watching, unable to move, he questioned himself, Why is it so hard?
She felt his presence, but shrugged it off. He was the last thing she wanted, she never wanted to see him again, she hated him, despised him...didn't she? Drowning under the burdens, she started to run. Ignoring the shells and stones clawing against her feet, she continued to run and that's when the tears started to flow. And they didn't stop.
I have to do something. I can't watch her like this. But no, he couldn't go, and he didn't. He ran through the trees to keep up with her when she suddenly tripped. Her body collapsed and folded towards the sandy floor. She lay there, shaking in a sob of tears.
The clouds kept playing with the moon, the night owl swooped in content and the lighthouse flashed its intermittent warmth, all in the darkness of the night.
He watched in shock as she climbed the very rocks she feared. And then he ran, ran towards her, faster with every breath, trying to reach her before..
The rocks were all she had now. She went higher and higher. The tears streamed down and fell to the blackness of the jagged floor, beads of sorrow lost in the darkness. Her feet were bleeding, a crimson trail followed her path. She reached the top, only flinted boulders and raging waters below. She gave it one last thought, Goodbye, and jumped.
He reached just in time to watch her let go. No! He fell in shock, on his knees, on the border where her footprints turned to blood.

I am..

I am fire, burning through the sentiments that dwell in your heart.
I am ash, remainder of your thoughts, filtered out of your anger.
I am water, escaping through the narrow slits in your shallow, closed mind.
I am dust, small and fine, incomparable, but in strong number.
I am wind, raging, fleeting through the openness of your soul and trying to convince you.
I am rust, breaking slowly, scratch by scratch, withering in this storm.
I am earth, strong and undefeated yet firm and stubborn.
I am human, I err, turn back and fight again.
I am God, I decide my fate.
I am.

To feel and to know

We all started off as animals of instinct. We felt, expressed, shared and took in. Then came thought, raging through feelings, crushing and overpowering some, and amplifying some. Practicality and common sense. Evolving to be who we are now, and starting off from where we were. Was it all for the better? Moving forward could in the end be just a step backward, towards the roots of our origins, yet we don't stop moving towards the forward we believe in, the forward that we think is right.

When are we the most at peace with ourselves? Is the root of peace happiness? Or is it indifference? Thought brings out that difference in each and everyone of us. Where oblivion is bliss, the mind is at peace. Where curiousity quenched is happiness, another mind is at peace. If there was no thought and only action, peace would co-exist with, more so be a solid part, of life.

Thought is the menace, thought leads to annihilation of the mind, thought is the mind.
Thought is beauty, appreciation. Thought is art, thought is preservation.
Thought instigates greed. Thought makes the powerful hungrier and the poor more helpless.
Thought makes us share, thought makes us care.
Thought helps war, thought causes crime, thought is evil.
Thought made me write this, thought is this.
So if we didn't think, would the world be a better place?