Discomfort and discontinuity

A small narrative poem which I attempted to break free of classical prose while keeping the classical form

The fog crawls down the hill like fans exiting a stadium to return to their nests. It settles content in its newfound resting place. But I am not. I am not the fog so I run up the hill without looking back or thinking forward. I simply must go. I have seen this every evening for 18 years but today it ends. The desert. Where fog burns up before it can settle, that is I. Let me burn up and smolder before a long slow settle can occur. Give me a car, give me a bike, give me shoes. For today I leave.

Breathless and breathing
Blinded by sweat but seeing
Senses dulled but whole body feeling
Minds a blank and thoughts reeling

The river runs like I and therefore in it I see a companion. Let us spill out into the ocean. Let the all consuming equalizer of time and erosion take me with it for although it's been here eras upon eons it has kept it's anger. It still defies the land and curses the sky. It still is untamed tossing sailors to their deaths and bringing kings to their knees. And so I follow the river.

Hand in hand; mind in wonder
Beside me snakes the water
Wash away; move forward; forget past blunder
If earth is mother nature, here's her sensous daughter.

Then ahead I hear it. The inevitable. The crashing. The cathartic release of the river down a precipice. Do I follow? Or turn back defeated wearily dragging my feet to the valley of death. Not an instanteous death but a slow compromise of life. It starts with contentment, the greatest tool of beelzebub. Slowly I see my friends erode. Can I turn back and live but live incompletely? Or press on over the edge to an unknown fate?

Falling freely; feels like flying
Decent or ascent? only relative to earth
And so this is it, here am I dying?
Or is this the beginning? Adult rebirth

Slap. Water angry at my disturbance. Angry at the world. Angry at the rocks that lay in its bed. Great Poseidon knows he could smother all and destroy any ark that this time dare defy him. But he doesn't, he lets the allure of the waves, and lunas haunting gaze call us out on our own free Will. For beauty is a currency and with it men will deal their lives.
Am I just another prey fallen victim to escape? For the water promises escape but the fine print reads: an escape from hope.

Bobbing, treading, drowning
Now is the time to call out to the sky
But no, I will not, myself I am crowning
This world and all in it falls prey to the great: my

A soft answer turnth away wrath. And therefore I softly refuse to die. I am and therefore I feel. And as long as I feel you will not strip away my powerful: I am. So I hold to it quietly yet firmly like the sibilant secrets whispered between lovers at midnight. I am tired, I am weary, yet I do not sleep for sleeping is a small retreat; a lonely surrender.

Eyes shining bright and clear
This new world is brilliant and deep
For in it there is much to love and more to fear
So let us see if my soul I may keep

Washed up I cough; contented. I have made my escape from the valley of what is and made it to the land of what could be. Around me is the garden of Eden and i, deliberately and defiantly walk straight for the tree. For what good is life without knowledge, there is no good without the bad. So as I bite in I know I'm cursed but with the curse comes a certain clarity. The contrast of evil on good makes both so much more. So without me, there would be no you.