
Imprisoned in darkness,
Acquitted in light,
Counting in blindness,
With totem in sight.
Demonic in image,
Angelic in heart,
Misreckoned in spirit,
But fathomed in art.
LoVe, liKe A rIvEr, WiLl CuT a NeWpAtH
There is something blocking the road now. It is an alien creature and I slow down, afraid and cautious. It reaches me and wraps itself around me like a sticky spider’s web. I fight to get out but it is stronger than me and threads me up into a tight cocoon.
I fall asleep again and wake with a start. I feel different somehow and glance down at my hands. I reel back in horror at the mangled claws that were once my hands. I try to scream but my voice has been removed. How long have I been here, I wonder? And what kind of monstrous creature will I become once the metamorphosis is complete?
When I was younger I used to have a recurring nightmare. It was the kind of dream where although you know that something is coming for you, you are unable to shake yourself awake. In the dream I am moving along on a type of road and it feels like I am trying to get to something that is both beyond my control and out of my reach.
The dream suddenly reminds me of where I am now on the dark road. But then I realise that this is not the dream from my childhood.
It is real. And I am dead.