the "tormented" soul

balancing between the palm trees

had shook hands with his

inner demons... alone

at a bonafide-cliched

crossroads of even

more cliched epic proportions.

his barriers, errr....more

vessels have been abandoned.

a plethora of reasons

have forrayed into

this mix. most

of which are heartbreaking

to the senses.

spots of existence

continue to permeate the air.

lives that

navigate the non-linear.

a spectrum of possibilites

on a never ending turnstile.

his name whispered...

one too many times.

as his sanity waned while

his reality became far reaching

and much, much more audible.

as the music was

reapeated over and

over in his head

he was paralyzed with dread.

this feeling of familiarity

left him wondering

what could have been.

all that was left was dust.

in human form.

still living that final

moment again and again...