No 2 Skrik

The crimson sun dips below the horizon and disappears into the ocean. I am dry, so I dance in the rain for a while.

I stare at the naked branches of sleeping trees, their leaves long-since sacrificed to the winter. Agitated by the noise of the silent nights I see the clock hand moving in perpetual circles. Like an athlete on a cinder track unable to find the finishing line.

I’m already screaming, but nobody hears me. I fall silent, immersed in my own soundlessness, and search in vain for a source of strength within my core. I decide to let myself go and embrace that powerful yet soft inner scream.