Winds of July

You tread on this thread of life, cursed to bear a wound that wouldn't heal. Cut open again, don't know where. All these images, what do they conjure? See the colors of the sky, hear the waves crash on the shore, feel the wind on your skin like you never have before. Suddenly all these sensations are more than what they seem to be. They send a message only you can interpret. In the darkness, you see more clearly; in the turbulence you find tranquility. See where you're headed, see where it ends. How does it feel to finally know how this concludes? How could you ever accept this fate? What should you do with what remains? Too early to tell, too late to know. But you go on, go on anyway through the path where there's no light. Walk on, traveler; walk through flooded waters, walk through the waves, walk through the blinding mist along the way. Will there be peace when you finally fade away and to disappear into the night?