Riding the wind (part 3)
Created | Updated Nov 13, 2006
Once upon a time…
That phrase has such a wonderful connotation. The feeling that everything will be alright in the end, that the bad guy will be vanquished, the wrongs of the world will be put right.
“…n the plaza, we see the pr…”
My hand wants to smash the window. I want to throw myself to them, jump from this building, but I do not have the courage. I know that when I wake in the morning, I’ll feel nothing, except the hollow emptiness, the moral vacuum that defines what I have chosen for my profession.
“…ving at his ador…”
No matter what happens, no matter the outcome, I cannot change what led me to this.
My rage is unbound.
“…oking up at a skysc..”
My will is pure.
“…t is th..”
A shot rings out.
“…y god..”
and the dance will start over again.
That phrase has such a wonderful connotation. The feeling that everything will be alright in the end, that the bad guy will be vanquished, the wrongs of the world will be put right.
“…n the plaza, we see the pr…”
My hand wants to smash the window. I want to throw myself to them, jump from this building, but I do not have the courage. I know that when I wake in the morning, I’ll feel nothing, except the hollow emptiness, the moral vacuum that defines what I have chosen for my profession.
“…ving at his ador…”
No matter what happens, no matter the outcome, I cannot change what led me to this.
My rage is unbound.
“…oking up at a skysc..”
My will is pure.
“…t is th..”
A shot rings out.
“…y god..”
and the dance will start over again.
