Island Stories: Part 2

The moon and all its shine glared down upon the beach,

The one night he decided to step by himself into the waters,

In the high tide,

All that was to be seen only hours before only  a vision one can assume,

And the rocks that loomed large above his head only a grey spot in the distance.

For a young pup in comparison to the world before him, 

The troubles he seems to endure leave nothing to behold before the large continent that looms endlessly in the horizon,

And as he claws his way through this limitless continent, 

All of this dissipates and the simplicity of walking is all he thinks about, 

Allowing himself air to breathe for the first time in a while. 

And then he looks forth into the water,

This time much darker, the mysteries that it hides beneath the surface,

The countless machines, the countless lives,

And the trees that edge the perimeter of the water only remind him of the Bengal tiger,

The monster who ditched its only friend in the world, to survive a shipwreck unfathomable by the normal human. 

Every tale has been told, and behind every cover another told story awaiting to be read, the punchline never always the same, but there.

This beautiful continent, the second least travelled by the human race,

Probably the most dangerous of them all. 

Capable of engulfing the mightiest of creatures, both natural and man-made,

It is on the brink of our society,

At any second, a tsunami, a flood, a hurricane, and all the more,

They are only minutes away from combining forces, destroying humanity and all that it has brought to this planet, in such short a time. 

But there it stands, 

As solemn as ever,

Water lapping on the shores, 

The sound of nature a magnificent feat by itself,

As you close your eyes, 

All you sense, is the salty air grasping onto your skin,

The sound of the waves,

And the feeling of infinity,

In its own way gratifying and mesmerising.

The feeling of infinity,

You want it to last,

But alas he returns,

To the sights and sounds of the world,

But he holds on to the feeling,

In hope it returns,

In the bustle of the city life in which he loves.