He walked away from the fire.
Head down, shoulders heavy with the loss he’d just suffered –
the sight of his friend engulfed by the will of the almighty ocean
imprinted on his mind with a whirling slap.
He had tried his best to rescue him,
but when he dove in,
it was already too late.
His lungs lacked the oxygen he would have needed to head deeper,
and his friend’s were already filled with a lethal dose
of salty draught he could never recover from.
Back on the shore, his dripping limbs felt shattered.
Heart pierced by the hailing sound of the ocean,
he looked absent, torn between worlds.
Eyes locked to the ground, feet entwined with the path
he had yet to walk, he held on to life’s rope, with all the strength he had left,
and thought of the souls that breathed still.
He then turned around and bowed his head to the sea,
bidding farewell to a dear hand whose shared memories
reached inside his broken chest in one final call.
Sore bones breached from within,
he stepped forward leaving behind
part of his soul to journey along
with the spirit of the sudden departed.