Heartsick and weary I prowl the darkest holloways of my mind’s undulating terrain. A slow creep along the sunken lanes and hedgebanks marking long-forgot ways, the beauty and optimism of the celestial swathe concealed by somber murk. A hopeless search for reasons where only ghosts remain.
My thoughts are mired deep in mud and mulch, wet and cloying. My companions are the low beasts, eyeless and scuttling. A downward spiral, an oblique trajectory.
Endless paralysing black, until finally the slowest, most viscous of dawns.