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