A Reckoning

It was strange the way we spoke. The silence from before had disappeared and in its place had left behind an unholy hold, as though stroked by demons themselves into a terrifying obscurity from both sides to one, then none. Another scene. Another lie. A loosening grip on garbled thoughts, alone in the display through times, I watch and recoil from the earth filling the grave and look upon with hollowed laws of the blind. Dust settles upon each sunken root, their eyes askew, a view searing deep to the soul. A soul stretched out to the sky, twisting away from the grabbing hold of deepened sores, raw, unconfined and bold.

Maybe it was the night air upon my skin that sent the shivers far beyond each breathing layer of mind. It was that same touch that I felt, a shadow of emptied past. The same remembered fear which guides our whispers, direct in their cry and punctuated by each repeated fall.

It's frightening to realise how thin the line is drawn as we slip into states beyond that of which we can never know..