It Beckons

It Beckons

The beach was her favourite place to be,

Not because of its charm or beauty,

But because of the stark reminder it was of failure to her.

The waves crashing to the shore that were inspiration to millions of souls,

Were a rude awakening of her failures,

Their roar; a harsh sound of despair to her ears.

The beautiful sunset admired by kindred spirits

Was a realisation of another lost day, lost opportunity to her.

The rising of stars twinkling like a thousand hopeful lanterns in the sky,

Was the rising of a million self-doubt questions on her mind.

 

As she sat there,

Lonely in a crowd…

She realised the beach was her favourite place to be.

After all, the dark water, the brilliant sunset and the glittering stars;

Were all calling her name,

It was the one place she was wanted. The only place she didn’t feel like an imposter.

 

Something was moving

Inching towards the mighty tide that seemed to be angry at the universe…

Belatedly she realised it was she who was moving;

Finally finally embraced by the cold cold body of water,

She felt at home.

As the waves engulfed her, she felt not fear but free,

As the water carried away from the shore, she felt not the cold but the burning desire to die,

As she finally stopped breathing, she felt not the dread of death but wonderfully alive for that one moment.

 

Finally finally she heaved her last as she opened her arms and walked with death,

Away from the world she felt suffocated in;

Into a world she felt no despair, no judgement.