When we are at our wit's end, and our mind turns to darkness...
Popping in my ears,
I hear the whistle.
Dust grips my chest,
and I nearly choke on
a lung. When...when...
Is this going to end?
Beams throw themselves
to the ground around me,
I grit my teeth as a piece
of wood knocks on my foot.
Did this all begin?
After a couple of storms and
a tornado already, I'm not so
sure. I could be dreaming...
or is this a picture of the nightmare
that roams in my heart?
I hear the glass shattering again.
But it is not so much the glass that
falls from the shelves as it is the
shattering of my soul, my very being.
Then I see the blood. Scarlet river that
bleeds out my spirit and chills my bones.
I gasp. It is real. I try to stop it. No avail.
I try to wake myself up. I'm still here, and
the whistling is getting louder. I can't move.
I can't breathe. I try to scream and nothing
I look up in my struggle and see a flying
beam coming to guide me into...complete