It’s a recurring vision more so than a dream.
I conjure whenever I long for those distant shore reveries
An exit off the parkway.
Endless traffic circles and aged diners.
Roadside white nomads seemingly destined for nowhere. Abandoned shoes of no interest or reflection.
Doubtful the surf is calling, or anyone else.
The endless  causeway
Pop’s discount parking search – an uncomfortable stain on our anticipation.
I’m hungry and desperately need to pee.
Thankfully, the ocean awaits.
The muffled cries of glee from beyond the boardwalk.
We’ve arrived.

Today the undertow is especially strong.
However exhausting, I return and again.
Gluttony for punishment must have begun right here.
Depleted, I cover my body in my sissy’s wet towel. I am a willful prisoner  to the peaceful hum of waves.  Indistinguishable distant conversations nourish my twilight.
And then he comes.
The masked stranger.
I believe I’m awake but when I try to speak my voice is empty.
I command my body to run but feel paralyzed and trapped.
Terror has completely consumed my soul as I continue my desperate pleas for help.
But my voice refuses to respect my desires.
He comes closer.
I await his clutch around my throat – I can smell his acrid breath in my face.
The rhythm of crashing waves remains fluid as does the distant laughter.
Helpless, I accept my fate, but still question my unknown crime.
Immersed in resentment the question also remains why have I been so blatantly abandoned?
What inspired cruelty to run so deep?
Such Indifference to my suffering?
I hear the endless voices yet They too are blind to my torment.

But tonight their slumber will be devoid  of consequence.
Free will. They dance to sleep.
And dream of tomorrow.

He’s here.
Grim Reaper in western wear.
I feel his fingers pressing around my throat.
They tighten as I begin to choke, grasping for breath.

My nightmare is paused and I’m granted a final lucid thought.
The God’s have finally spoken.
Quite a reveal!

Prior to my fathers passing I selfishly begged him to fight harder.
It was too soon. We needed him. We loved him.
But he had made his own decision.
The former soldier and hero ultimately raised the flag on this journey – far too anxious for the unknown and more importantly – perceived peace.

Desperate for the grave.
I finally understood as I too recognized the pain.
This was not the world I’d envisioned.
The haves and the have nots.
The grand design.

A different suffering, but goals were ultimately very similar.

The tragedy of peace.

Startled, I awaken.
I hate myself. I hate the world.
I question love. I question humanity.
Faith is lost. I question God.
This Man haunts me still.
He haunts us all.