Friday 3 December 2010

Time hath no one for a friend

The fog, the mist and the trees held me for a while. The black road continues as I stumble from some waxen state.

I have been as a dream. A wraith as the world echoed around me from Sun to Moon, winter to summer. The whooshing sound as if from a castle dungeon drags me awake with a gasp of long awaited breath. I am alone, I am dim of wit and cloudy of eye. An odour is about me, one of death and yet not quite decay. I stumble a step or two unsure if I am moving as I have no feeling, but the sound of a cracking branch and the shaking image I see hint at my movement.

Down I crash into the leaves and roots. Pain flashes across my inner eye like a crack of thunder. I taste the earth and with the numbness of memory I push myself onto my side and looking up I see; a sky.

The web's of spiders long dead hang above and like the dress of some silthen wench they move and glisten in the winter Sun. It must be winter as I am very cold, bone cold. Deep and deeper cold as only ice knows. I will lay here for a while and see what is happening or maybe sleep.