Wading ankle-deep in the confluence of the error of my ways

Trying to avoid the rising tides, I seek higher ground

It is of no use

Storm drains are choked with the onset of the sudden storm

They simply can’t keep up

Water is now waist-deep and rain, driving and stinging, blinds me

I press forward

Forward through the discomfort and chill

Self-Asserting and proud

Forward

Always forward

The current swirls about me, yet I hold fast to the belief

I am in control

Pulled further afield, it has now met shoulder height

It continues to rise at an exponential rate

Its weight pressing against my breast

My breath comes in short desperate gasps

And yet I rationalize the churn, the dizzying spin

I am swept out to sea, the fool hearty victim of my own arrogance

And now alone, cold and unmoving

I sink, burdened by one stinging realization

No one is immune to the consequences

Not even me