he sat on the broken rock,
mesmerised by the morning blue of the sky,
he could see the little mermaid,
going in and out with each wave

he could see the mountains,
and their shadow, floating-
like the dead bodies in any sea
with wind.

how normal failure is,
he thought in a moment of pause,
how normal it is, to not be alive,
the little man said a little louder from the deepest architect of his mind.

he sat wondering about what he came to know,
he sat wandering about in the fields of drought and flowers, insignificance and knowledge,
of thirst and hunger, and something alien that comes with those two.

he sat where he could see the sky and it's blue, and he wondered, lost-
if the sky could ever see or know, how beautiful it is and was ?

and he thought to himself, is that is why there are lakes and ocean's, he blamed-
is that is why it rains ?