Jan 1st 26
I have been running for so long,
startled into sprint by
the merest notion of sound.
There is a threat that chases me through
time and light, dark and consciousness.
I never see it, cannot confirm it's form
but I know that it chases me as surely as
I know that I am alive.
I beg and plead to feel the peace of
closed senses and mind, to fall into
the deepest, stillest of null, and then
awaken in a world where the chase has ended.
But the wicked, cruel fingers of man
with countless knuckles and insidious twists
are always searching, forever scratching at
the fragile beauty of life -
to rip it piece by chunk and
place into profane, depraved maw.