I find no comfort in it but for a moment having him listen was salvation. A dreamcaster speaking of dreamers fondiling nightmares until they themselves collapsed from the intensity of fleeting moments. Madness as a sweet nectar defiled me and I cast sinister thoughts into being. Light upon light upon light I longed for more sight, aye to see nothing in darkness and yet to see. There was no accursed spirt, no harmfull dye cast, yet the wrong how glorious it is could be felt in every sinew. The wrong of blood flowing beneath vein and the stillness that comes from not having a reaction.

I contemplated happiness and saw no reflection in its mirror. Rocks become soup and spiders pick and choose their prey. Jobs drink of us until withered we are no more gayful youth driven mockers of life. Something in that frenzy is lost and we search dilligently to find it back. Memories drift away from our crisis as hair falling strand by strand. Maker your puppet speaks and its condition no longer reflects that of a star. Maker perfect your instrument but even now coffee does not have that tinge. Maker your craft is failing and the words are shouted across the room.

A glass of water to go hand in hand with this walker, a glass of water slowly becomes a paper dixy cup with moistened wax, pills follow, nothing meds and glitter remains everywhere, oh god how it sparkles.