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Thoughts of a tribal tide
The tides shall forever gain friction the and might when it surges from its dissolved roots of existence. It's surging waves shall be a force to reckon with, and against any element of size and magnitude. Alas, the surge shall fade at the dawn of a new kind, and a kind that slept through as time traveled into infinite space, only to wake up to realize that it was all a dream, a dream that shall soon be broken into infinite pieces of realities and I wake up. I wake up not from my dream but from a nap that was snapped by the irregularities that I did not find meaning in. I woke up to put every radical thought of existence to sleep for good because either have a story of my own. Something the world is sniffing and itching to hear. It's the story of infinite morals coexisting within each other,, and fighting till ends meet and sacrificing it's self for the greater greatness that he meant to achieve. It may sound, and at times; overwhelming however the retribution that shall arise as a result of the constant thought that clouds their judgement may soon resurface the entire idea of coexistence sealed it's fate in a paradox of endless possibilities of re imagining the true path of moral existence.
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