Poised atop

And so
he rolls through his day. A
boulder, tumbling downhill,
bouncing over stumps, and crashing
through obstacles. His hands are tender
to the shake, rough in their grip, knuckles,
gritty to the punch, and arms steadfast
in their strength. He shouts, stood on the hill, and calls
the river up the incline. The eagle soars above his head
and the reptiles slither around his feet. Thunders applauds
him in their clap as he calms the storm and dances
the wind. He calms them to the sun set. He calms
them till they succumb to its dim glow. Till
the night overpowers them. Him.
Slumber encroaches.
Silence cuddle him.
Loneliness strokes his
thick haired head.

Not even the eagle, or reptile,
or thunder, or applause, or sunset
can protect him from his
night company.

He fears drowning.
Worst off, in his own tears.

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