I am tired of running, breathing sporadically through my frozen nose. Yes, i have been chased since the time i don't exactly remember and I'm not talking about my unfaithful shadow here. I try to eye the enemy through semi-numb senses, which lands me into a cavernous abysmal. This fall is extremely unpleasant and no matter how much i holler (through my fully numb senses now), i have the world unheeded to my tribulation. the journey inside is dramatic, from extreme fear to extreme void. Quite transient to the extent of waking me up cruelly every morning.
Clearly this ain't no dream but the horrendous of horrendous nightmares, the ones which brutally make you realise that you're alive. Each day i see myself in this abysmal, going to a place, popularly addressed as nowhere. Here void becomes the only thing of clarity you have in your head. Each day i sweat profusely seeing this anon enemy, while shadows only foul-play occasionally. It's not that I'm blinded or daft to find out the cause, but over the time I've become a victim of my own self, my own 'fatigued self'.
Interestingly, i take pride in discerning the fact that in this treacherous journey, i seek great comfort in crumpling the stones i meet on my path. 'Anger', 'Jealously', 'Indifference' are bleeding bruised, while their scars are clearly visible on my body. Deception is one thing, i strongly don't believe in, which is why the enemies always manage to spot me from a distance. Their footmarks trail along mine, while the difference is categorically seen in the end. Where my footmarks lose out to the magnum space, i receive in the void. It is then i begin to feel alive, floating to the loose shreds of my sub-conscious. To it i surrender a lot more than just the senses.