I Breathe In
“The world is unreal, the air foreign — and yet I breathe.”
I breathe in.
The air once natural, now foreign. An inexperienced diplomat begging for peace between blood and iron.
The world around me — unreal.
How can I be born of nature, but feel like an invader? The sun shines on me the same as the ground we walk — Yet still, I am a stone out of place. A seedling clinging to the roots of a dying tree.
I live in this illusion.
A spectator behind the curtain. Listening to the sound of coin drown out the pain of those around me. They drink up their tears, thirsting on their own suffering.
Sight becomes a curse.
To walk blindly through this hell would be bliss. Yet, I am betrayed by my own heart. Forced to breathe this poison and call it air. To know what could be and to know it can never be. Expected to accept a world that neglects me as I sink into its waters.
I breathe in.
About the Creator
Christopher Foster
Storyteller. Writer. Tales written of quiet mornings, and nightmares that dance between the outstretched arms of the sun. Currently building the world of Ankor, one story at a time.
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