Some would say that if the lion knew his own strength then he could not be controlled. 

I entertained a similar mindset March 2015 at the recently attained age of 15 years. 

Schweitzer. Somewhere in the United States. 

I stare the run down and opt to go straight down. No turns. No deceleration. So I go straight down. No moguls, no angles, and eventually my body is traveling at 30, 40, hell maybe even 50 miles an hour. The decline becomes an incline so I turn 90 degrees clockwise in anticipation of the upcoming cat track at its peak. But physics contradicts the best of my intentions and I then shoot through the yellow tape harnessed by the previously unseen bamboo sticks outlining said track's outer end. 

Several moments later, I find myself meters from a ski lift pole, skis thoroughly detached from my boots, feeling sufficiently shaken yet grateful to be alive.

He takes my hands, caressing, teasing, pretending to,

Dragging me further down, capturing my heart over and over using rhythmic words of lust that hypnotize my soul and I'm caught,

Fired away by an ignition of pure pleasure; mine or his?

Taken by the demons within his soul, I surrender giving myself, I have no choice.

Life's a funny thing, yet we all seek to play the strings that will us into creating our own doom,

Challenging us to master our own strength by paving an obstacle filled path; arena of games,

And we play.

Yes we gladly take on the fantasies our mind creates and blame them solely on love,

Fading eventually into a pavilion of depression of depression, into a war with self and a doom set by our own decisions.

Sinking. Sinking deeper into life's reality only to accept what was and not realizing what is.

We dance within fires that triggers the same smoke that will eventually be the end of us,

He finally lets go and I'm brought back to the place I was before, drowning yet again.

I decide now, I'm the maker of my own destiny and his lies I now revoke; null and void.

There he lay, trying so hard to breathe. Laboring, gasping for air. All asthma medication was not working. I feared for his life, or rather that his death was near. I prayed for God to heal him, give him breath. Help him breathe, "PLEASE!!! GOD!!! Don't let him die!" As I sobbed uncontrollably.

Gasp... Wheeze...

I laid my hands upon his body. Placed my head upon his chest... Sobbing, praying, I gave up. Fine. He's yours, God. I give up, I give him to you.

Little did I know that 25 years later I would hear his sentencing. "50 years".

Once again the sobs begin, this time I'm the one gasping for breath. This time I'm the one feeling death near me. As my heart throbs fiercely. My stomach churns in agony. My ears ring in pain from that word, "guilty".

Physically I am standing tall and strong, for I am the mother of the victim. Inside, mentally, I have sunk to the floor. Thrown my hands up once again. "PLEASE GOD!!!! I give up." My spirit sinks slowly out of my body as I go numb.

Life sinks away. Life is nothing more than shifting sand in a sea of crashing waves.

The walls were closing in

The floor was giving way

Lord, take his memory

Help him to forget today

Her words were fading quickly

As he sank further in the sand

This can't be his reality

She can't make this demand

His attempt to climb back up failed him with each grasp

He looked at her with panic-filled eyes as she ignored the task

He'd never known such betrayal

He had always loved her so

She held him close for many years

But so easily let him go

He stopped the struggle and bowed his head as he gave up the fight

He sobbed as the darkness slowly encompassed his last light

One day he was walking meadows

Now he's just sinking in the sand

And she supplied each grain

As she denied him her very hand