I feel your soul knocking on my door.  
Yelling into the blank nothingness.  
By each pounding sensation,
pain trickles down my neck.  I am cold.  
Life no more shields me from the river of time, 
and slowly, I am pulled within the trenches.
	Once again, this time to be remembered, I float down time.
  Laying on my back, the clouds seem to follow my every turn.  The 
cool water slaps 
against my back, striking it with the same 
power which encaptures life.  
  The smell of campfire marshmellows, upon a 
nightengale 
         flame, 
blows clean mist into my heart.  Living is meek, 
the true yearning is all transcending.
And the cool waters once more keep me afloat.