![]() ![]() We only fear what we do not know, and if we let it go, then we have nothing to fear. I have seen the world in daylight, warm and alive, but I live in it's other half, it's darkness, cold, endless abyss of the unknown. They may see that, growing up in such a place as this, it is not the dark that we should fear, nor the cold. They welcome me, and I feel the cold now, as if it were greeting me into my dwelling place. The night, the cold, the dark - they are my home. My soul drinks in the night, and I am intoxicated. I take it in as I drift, letting the water move me out, away from shore. I use my hands and feet to keep myself afloat, and I look up at the night sky once more. The moon is high overhead, and I kick off from the sand, keeping my head above water. But it's late in the season, and late at night as well. The lake is so cold for the summer, when it should be warm. I stand, feeling the soft ripples rise up and down, the wet spots on my neck from the water colder when they hit the air. The water creeps up, taking my legs, torso, arms. I keep walking, letting it take me in, surrendering myself to its every whim. It's a void in and of itself, taking everything with it. ![]() It's icy cold, and looking down into its depths is terrifying. I keep walking, the water devouring my body - my soul. A few feet from the water, grass and trees begin to pierce through the pale yellow sand, roots moving like snakes, twisted through the earth. I bring my vision down, to the sandy shores around the lake. I look at the moon, and how bright and defined it is in the cloudless night sky. I see the white hot stars, and as I look at them, they blind me more than the sun itself. I have to shift from point to point in my vision. My eyes now gaze out at the world around me - it's too big, too breathtaking to be kept in my mind. ![]() I could turn back, stop myself from getting hypothermia. Both feet are in the water now, and I can feel the temperature of my body dropping. My vision is blank, and the scent of pines and a few scattered oaks fill my lungs with each breath. My face is blank, staring at the lights of houses on the opposite shore. I only have one foot in the water, and I move like a baby learning to walk - one foot in front of the other. My senes go into shock, but my mind is deadlocked. The coldness is new, embodying me in a different way. A gasp escapes my lips, and my bare foot shatters the still surface with ripples. I looked down at the glass-like surface before me again. The sky was dark and ominous, sprinkled with glowing white dots. I gazed at the moon, and felt her eyes and beauty looking down upon me. I took a deeper breath, the minty taste of the air drawing into my lungs. The cold night air passed silently in slumber through the pines. I missed these nights - the ones I spent in isolation like this. I look out at the glassy dark floor in front of me, then up at the starry night sky. My breaths are shallow, yet long and drawn out. ![]() Let the fountain reflect the sky, or rather, let the sky reflect the fountain, and whatever lies within. So, let the basin shine, bright, or let it darken with a rich, secret romance of their own. All this, kept within the fountain, the lucid, beautiful fountain, holding everything, letting only what you see in it show. They feel the love of every couple's stolen kisses, their darkened romances, the true longing for another person. Souls are kept quiet underneath its surface, resting, looking out upon all the lovers, whose memories will be forever trapped in time, here to stay. Light defines their silhouettes - gravity, their shape. Lovers find a midnight, moonlit romance around their beauty, let the moon and stars reflect upon every beaded droplet, upon their reservoir down below. The darkness of the deep, pure repository, darker than pitch, devours all that look inside it. Trickle, drip, thousands of explosions - clean, lucent droplets. ![]()
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