The Coastline- A fading hope.

Riding over turbulent waves in a Higgin's boat, the coastline tempts through a curtain of smoke.

Its glimpse greets us with rattling explosions.

A deafening barrage of relentless bursts rocks the vessel leaving ears ringing long after.

Tiny droplets rain down and soothe the burning nerves.

Only to be ripped out by the aching screams of those around flipped over by the blasts.

Will I make it to the coast or I won’t?

Destiny is untold.

Death a cold truth.

— This piece holds true even more now. When I wrote it, I didn’t really have the scene from the war in my mind. Instead, it is our lives nowadays that drew me to this. The coastline here is synonymous to the ripe age we hope we can get to. The bombs are the lethal uncertainties raining down on us every day. While we evade the damage at times, those who we care for may not and that in a way is as painful as getting stabbed in the heart many times over.