He stands a top the moss covered hill
as he looks down on the world that
he used to quiver at with fear.
His eyes scan the grey horizon that feels
as indifferent and numb as the emotions
that race through his veins
the mist from the ocean underneath
engulfs his lungs.
His knees buckle as he becomes weak.
He used to be afraid of the world toppling down on him,
But this afternoon he topples down on the world,
from his mossy perch.
Either way the result is still the same.