VOYAGE OF THE FOOL The steel grey sky rumbles and rolls as he unties the rope, and prepares to head out onto the dark, choppy waters. The raindrops begin to plop, as shouts of “fool!”, “why?”, “stupid!” and dire predictions of inevitable disaster ring through the warm, wet summer air. His soggy head is filled with a rock-hard, burning determination, as he shoves off from the rain-pelted dock, and enters the deadly, see-sawing waves with his eyes set, his jaw tight, and his stubborn brain locked onto the cool, calm, blue-watered shore that awaits him at the end of this foolish, hapless, impossible voyage. A soft, warm bed of silk, and a girl of such beauty that the flowers blush and the birds refuse to sing in her angelic presence is waiting with open arms, divine smile, and eyes that melt his heart and incinerate his soul like a dry autumn leaf in a barrel of fire. The rain is slicing the stormy air in silvery sheets as the tiny boat rocks and bobs on the grey, windy water like a cork; the sky booming out its menacing anger, while the black, churning clouds hurl down golden bolts of electric death. The voyage of the fool is well under way, and his fate belongs to a malevolent ocean and a screaming, rampaging sky. -- Kenneth N Cook
Posted on: Thu, 04 Jul 2013 12:48:35 +0000
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