But the stone is ice cold and freezes the water, only to pulverize it into small sharp glass like particles, destroying your lungs, eyes and hands.
Leaving you bleeding inside, outside and in pain.
Without hope for help, without hope for healing, without hope that someone could actually get rid of all these particles and make you whole again.
As if it was meant to be.
Tear drops on a hot stone, dry ice, burning like fire, while frozen.
And the water has no chance, neither to flow nor to stay. It can only break in either way possible.
And if there aren’t enough ways, new ones will get developed, until even plants will spit at it, birds will shit on it and machines, will get rid of it.
Since the water makes them wet, makes break and fall down.
So better get rid of it, of this devilish waters, since no one needs water anyway.
Since when was water the basis for life?
Fire seems more like it.
Or like hot water on a cold stone.
Like a drop of water on a hot stone.
And then it all explodes, a crack in the stone.
Then thunder, then green, green lightning, then red, then silence.
Like a dot, a dot stone, a dead stone.
(Light flashes warning)