Touray

I have an inclination towards life’s isolated propensities,

It is a certainty, a destination of my own,

I’ve come to know it,

I’ve come to accept it,

I am a slave you know,

Maybe you do,

Know that is,

However I may not,

At times…

Or from time to time,

Frequently I regain sight for a moment,

I am partially blind,

Clearly the face of unknown species appear,

Peaking over me,

They have human voices, fingers, and limbs,

You’d never know when your eyes were shut,

Now would you?

Possible you,

Not I,

Due to my inclination to life’s isolated propensities,

So there it is,

A constant hunting,

A constant lurking beside the illuminated path,

Skinny sticks,

So easy to slip into,

Again to terror,

Gashing blood from teeth,

Posed upon the neck,

Taking breath,

Or the ability to speak,

Then to see,

Slipping in an under me,

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 22nd, 2006 at 1:18 am and is filed under imagination. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.