The mind plays itself on the edge of a pool, imagining its drowning. The water filled with emotions that embrace the past. The water is ice cold, lacerating the vital organs. The organs represent any hope of love and selflessness. Why do we fall into depth we can't rise above and why do we dig holes that dry us out. Within this pool is a small object circular floating on the surface giving us hope, for some, it's God for others it is a reflection of ourselves the ideal hope that life gets better. If this object somehow sinks we are hopeless and are living in hell. Why live in a state of fear when everything you fear is nothing but the failure of responsibilities. The failure to attain love, the candid dream of a beautiful life. Isn't it a form of torture to be hopeful till your demise.