Held up as in watery mire

But safe from the dangers of life,

Battling daily with the encumbrances that beset me,

I hold on with clenched fists and closed eyes.

In this watery world of voices and shadows

Voices do differ but I do not know what is being said,

And shadows more or less the same I cannot fathom their form.

Ignorance mixed with contentment I may say

For I desire not to know anything but that I am

The knowledge of which I am not even aware.

I may walk a hundred miles

But can never travel more distance than those bloated legs do each day.

Once in a while I take a jab at the walls,

At the walls of this bloody purse

Just to assure myself that I’ve not been forgotten

Like a medieval rock in a garden of daisies.


Then suddenly it happened,

First the walls around me begin to quake, and then voices immediately after;

Then I could not feel the pressure of those bloated legs anymore

More voices, some screams and more shadows

Who is groaning? And why?

So I decide to see for myself

But before I could decide, I’m slipping down and out of control

Hey! Who opened a window or where’s this light coming from?

Suddenly a gloved hand grabs my head. Help!!!

I want to go back to what has been my abode for ten full moons

But I can not! Help!


There’s light everywhere.

Who are these people?

Now voices have faces and there are no more shadows

To give these intruders a good scare,

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and gave a shrill cry.

The very first in my life.




August 19th, 2004. 1.56am



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