The Night River

His was a world filled with felicitousness and bliss. Lately he has been running away from his feelings.....

He was molding the nebulous clay to reach his soul. There was a mysterious affinity between them. His reality was spreading thin, the search for the tangible soul, the embodiment of his dreams was farfetched. He was poised and hopeful. The silent brook resonating with his beats was resting on a parched land, the idol was across the brook staring at him piercing his soul understanding his yearning on a bright midsummer day, the water is boiling and the feet are bare.

Call it an epiphany or not, the ebbing brook turned into a brimming river, the desolate land was flush with green splendor, and there she was across the river. Each wave like his beat was playing peek-a-boo with him, he was ready to plunge in. He is standing amidst the river like a rock, waiting for her to cross and forever be united.
In the midst of the wilderness, all of the poets musings came to life.

The nebulous clay across the river, vanished and she was sitting besides him her head on his shoulder both their feet dipped in cool water, both looking at the coalescing reflections in the river and smiling.

Little did he know that all of it was untrue, his reason for living was not a reason anymore. He went to the river, it was damp and disagreeably chilly outside. The consonantal creatures were ghoulishly quiet. The crimson crescent's reflections coalescing with his'. There is a rippled image originating from the floating-moss at the opposite bank. He sees what seems to be a couple sitting playing with the water, he could only see two dark figures due to the crimson in the sky. His eyes agaze as he sees himself across the river laughing back at him, and she is resting her head on his shoulder, slowly vanishing. He extends his hand to get ahold of her, to pull her back to reality, never to let her go. The babbling water crashes like his dreams and creates a silence. The cold wind is piercing through his skin and making his bones brittle. He is shrieking, calling her name in vacuum. He looks here and there in anguish, trying to figure out what had just happened, but he could only see a red dot in the sky spanning across the river like an arrow; piercing his heart, and the vast pitch unfolding like the nothingness in his life. And in that tranquility he could only hear the echoing of the incessant laughter....