To set out into the world again, warmth and ease melting away from your skin like wax. A featherless bird, a man without direction. A vision without purpose. Blindness and confusion.
A mind, a champion, a great ally – succumbed to the illness. We grow apart as I grow smaller. Something is lost, but nothing is gained. Taken away.
Not a single step forward, but a million steps back. Cannot walk that far, so you have dragged me back. Broke my knees, now you ask that I stand.
Up and down are meaningless to me. I do not recognize the letters. I cannot count past ten. In the deprivation of the mind, it the stripping of the soul, there is tremendous comfort. So leave me here to die.
I said, stop poking me with a stick like a madman. Stop laughing. My head is heavy. I need to sleep. Perhaps, in a dream, I will see myself walking again. If my ethereal feet do not carry me back, back to the source, then I will be truly lost.
Back to the blind distance, the distant blindness, cold, grand, infinite,
from which I spring.