Chapter Text
I fear my death as I fear
the storm looming in front of me
I fear the storm for I know I shall get wet
I know the water will dilute away
the ink I cradle so dearly in my palms
So colorful and bright
That I know the rain will wash it away
My feet guide me as I walk across the dust
They guide me along other footsteps
Yet my eyes find no companions
My ears tell me
They are here
Whispers and yells alike
My feet guide me among the
Paths and bluffs
Because
My mind is with the clouds
And my hands are with my ink,
Steadily dripping as I stumble
The dust makes it hard to see
The storm makes it hard to think
My mind will guide my feet again
My mind will guide my hands again
My mind will fix this
Just as soon as it is done with the storm
I cannot see how far away it is
I can hear others entering it
Some running
Some walking
Some overtaken
Why do I keep walking?
I must never turn back.
I fear the storm as I fear my own heartbeat
Like a doomsday clock
Slowly counting down beats
Until I reach that dreadful rain
Yet
The slower it beats,
The less beats it gets
The ink is dripping between
My fingers
I can carry it all in one hand now
I try to reach out to feel another
Another that I can hear
But can’t see
Nothing
I slip a little
And ink dribbles
Over
Off
My hand
So little
So little left
The storms looms before me
I can feel it’s pressure
It’s energy
I can feel the humidity
The ink in my hand is
dry now
When the storm finds me
It is with resignation
My ink is long dry
My mind may not wander anymore
And my feet have carried me far
When the water pours over me
Erasing me
As best it can
I look back
To the forbidden view
To the path of steps
The path of beautiful ink
I left behind
I see others,
Blind in their own ways
Stumbling along paths their minds
Ignore
I see one
Young
Crooked
Hurt
Beautiful
Following my ink
Following the brightness
I watch until the
Beautiful
reaches me
I finally fade away
Yet I do so
Knowing
The rain has washed my ink
Away
But it has hydrated it
It has let me see
It has spread my ink far and wide