In the Deep

In the Deep.

The sun does not reach. The corridor is perceived only through the mind's understanding of the blur between light and dark. My footsteps echo deep into the nowhere before me.

Beneath the world, I wander, walking an endless corridor at an involuntary pace. My footsteps relentlessly echo at me as I press into or beyond this world.

Yet my senseless persistence leaves me wanting for not more than a single sight, an image etched into my reality, an existing article for my perception, an occurrence. I wish for anything.

When I Fell.

I raced for a way out. Ceaselessly, I trudged forward into a hazy nothing. I desperately sought a path back to the surface. I believed I was on my way home. Instead, limbo draws me ever on into abyss. My feet carry themselves as my senses gradually dull.

I never noticed the olfactory sense go. It was only when the echoes began to fade that I realized I could smell no more. Eventually, after the echoes were gone and no sound remained, I numbed. From toe to top, I slowly lost the sensations of movement. The soles of my feet feel no pressure. My hands sense no air against them, and I no longer sense them.

Bleary is this existence. I sense through an impenetrable twilight the vague action of my motion, but I have doubt. Imperceptible eons have passed since I fell. My mind plays tricks now. Sounds or glimpses from and of nothing haunt me. My soul clings to imagination as its last respite before I hopefully cease altogether. I have forsaken hopes of home to accept this fate and lie to rest.

Where I Fell.

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