Depression, I have found, can be just as fleeting as happiness. The wind falls, and glistening starshine arcs and makes the shapes of angels over the breaking water. One tilts their head to the sky, and falls with it into glorious rebound. The eyes, so much like a childs, stare in wonder at the laughter before them. All that is there can be incompassed, and all thats on my mind is a drawn out sigh.
We sat in the healing atmosphere, soaking up the wafting fumes and the screaming laughter. We let ourselves bask in the glow of the harvest night. Our eyes and lips abandoned all concepts of heaven and hell for the moment. We absorbed ourselves, made ourselves live in the moment. Made ourselves feel human. So we talked like children do, to make ourselves forget our prosthetics.
The fires burn into beautiful rebirth, and the alge slumbers. Lets forget about living for a second so we can just feel alive.