Sinking,
       the drifting ceiling of blue and grey light
illuminating the ride.

Suffocating,
       grasping for something, anything,

A light in the dark,
       the eternal fading,
the last residuals of the cold falling away,

And then the transitory returns.
       The golden sun, wind kissed waves,
and a weather beaten hand catching yours,
       a call, joyful, echoed the gull high above,
as safety brings the glow of liberty.