glass of water

I am standing staring at the glass of water. Stars in heaven aligned, and they never sounded so good. Them voices. I look away into the night and hear the voices sing, hear them sing as I stare at the glass of water, and the glass is sweating.

I used to rule the world, or did I? I thought I did, but in fact I am staring in a pool of mud staring at the glass of water. The pool of mud below me that looked like gold under a different light. Deceived, I hear them bells ring, and the choirs sing. My time will come, and I will have to allow the mud to suck me in. I stare at the glass of water, and the glass is sweating.

I don't think they know who I am anymore. The words I have said, sorta went blur. That is the thing, I often do what I don't wanna. Oh look I am stuck in the mud, are you going to take me out?

I tread there myself, softly, but slowly, and then the gears shifted and it is stuck in reverse, and in time my tears will stream. That is how it goes. I will lose something I cannot replace, maybe my sanity, maybe my innocence. Then it is gone, out the door. But it will be fixed. Eventually.

I stand and walk through the mud, eventually the rain will fall, and the ground will clear, and in time, I won't be standing in the mud no more.

I stare at the glass of water, and the glass is sweating. But in time, it will sweat no more. The sun will be up, and it'd be dry.