Storm

I can speak in platitudes of the sincerity of life and death. Both hold special meaning to me. Have you ever been to the brink? When you are so numb, all you hear is imaginary crickets, and all thought processes cease? And in those few moments you don't exist. Perhaps that's what death is like. Nothingness. What a depressing thought. What if this is the only life we get? What if all our faith is merely rice paper that could be destroyed by a gentle rain. What if God is a fairy tale designed to keep our morals at bay? What if ravenous storms that destroys everything in their path are merely random acts of mercy. If that storm devours me while I sleep, may the secrets I gave you, you secretly keep...