My life: I always get a clear peak through the rolling feasts of impending storms;

I always cringe away from the majestic, unending, but fierce clutters of water,
while knowing that it chews through my bones and breaks the chains of time.
There are patterns to my life, so I never imagine my “always’” in any other way:
I feel happy wherever the water upends me towards, and
wherever I end up, solitude always grants me a view I have never seen before. And such
is my life: I will never know my life through my own mahogany lenses,
and though some fish may enshroud my vision and colour it burnt-sienna,
I will always live in “always’” of mysteries, with only one lucid elation called misery.