It was a 100 feet drop
The rain was pelting and cold
Late at night, no cars on the bridge
He stood there on the edge
He looked straight down
Into the hungry and relentless sea below
The rain masked his tears
Thoughts rushing through his head
A single step away from death
But he stopped living a few years ago
A few years ago when he lost everything
His beautiful kids and his lovely wife
Every night he went to sleep
He blamed and cursed himself
A tragic accident, which he survived
But took away his will to live
Hardly ate anything or even slept
Lost his job, lost his house
As he lay on the streets every night
Would replay that scene again and again
Can't go back in time to change the past
But also can't progress further in life
His life exploded into millions of pieces
Too complex to put together
He put one leg forward
He slowly loosened his grip
He closed his eyes
In front of him was light
In that light, he saw his kids
He saw his wife holding them
He saw them laughing and playing
At that moment, he smiled
Next morning the streets were busy
The rain had stopped and the ocean was calm
A man sat on the sandy beach
Looking at the sun rise over the horizon
About the Creator
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More stories from Siddhanth P. Rao and writers in Poets and other communities.
Himachal Trip -The Great Fall
It was 04:30 am. The alarm rang. Within the first ring of the alarm, I was wide awake. Usually, I snooze the alarm five to six times before I force myself to wake up, but not today. The day had finally arrived. The four of us, Aman, Rohit, Pratyaksh and I were going to Manali for our trip. This trip was a long time coming. I still remember how all of us, in our school days, used to plan all our trips and would never do them, but we used to plan them anyway for the fun of it. But, at last, we were finally putting our plan into action. This trip was spontaneous, and initially, planned as a joke. But somehow this naive pointless joke of ours became one of the best trips of our life.
By Siddhanth P. Rao5 years ago in Wander
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