In a grey haze I find myself crawling upwards on cold rock shelves. Knees scratched and bleeding, my mind a blur. On a path, but I dont know to where. On my way I pass many folks heading up, down, some as inert bulks, some come shambling in jerky streams like sleepwalkers in a jittery dream. As I reach further up the winding stairs, I sens gradual shifts in the air. It gets more cumbersome to breathe and climb and the fog thickens over a shrouded mind. The passing shapes now seem to notice me more as something alien, something deplored. As something dangerous, their faces tell, Im a vile creature, an image of hell. Countless shapes lift my body from the floor, drags me off in wonder as to what I have in store, will I soon be squandered? Like a match burnt out, like a twisted nail.. Like bad cloth torn asunder, yanked away with force as thread was wrong. I was expelled from the dream ushered into oblivion. Cast into the bowels of the great beyond, into the unseen, slowly devoured by the void, that dreadful endless sea.
jittery, something, deplored, jerky, yanked