There is a stillness this day, ominous and dark.
Where once, the mist would welcome and cleanse me, I feel sick and confused. Light joy and vibrancy are fading in the grey dawn. There is no puropse today.
I can feel the trees thicken and condense, blocking out light, tightening across my heart. Once viscous vines skitter across the damp earth, growing and twining faster than sound, than should be allowed.
Positive, negative, neutral, nothing. There is nothing here anymore. The silence of life is now the silence of death and I, one lost soul, am caught in the holocaust of desire. I am defeated.
On a poisonwood tomb, I rest my heavy heart. Thorns wrap tightly to exposed flesh, burrowing deep, draining life. I am content, for this is the end; there is no use fighting.
Vision blurred, delerium setting, a touch of your hand is the only comfort now. Though it is not real, it eases the pain. But! my mind has outdone it’s self. I can feel your lips, smell your skin, hear your voice, and I know now that you are real. You are here, and we will survive in the confines of my heart.
