AURASTORM

Ophidian

© 2002 Drhoz

Chill greyness

no

Chill greyness, curdling slowly against a sky of empty darkness

no

Under my fingers, coarse sand scratchs and matts my fur

no

My mind.. fractures. shards... assembled into something new and horrible.

no.

Ophidian. I am not myself

no

I am not all here

no

I try to scream. I cannot.

no

My mind has been forced into a new vessal, broken again,
spread out on this
sand.

 I feel mud and sand and damp empty fog
poisoning my existance. my mind. my
soul.

no

I ... ( but who is this I? ) I try to reach out, gather my self, gather my thoughts.
But older instincts... hindbrain impulses...
have been burnt afresh
across the outer levels of my mind.

Reptilian impulses.


I am not all here

no

I try to scream. I can only hiss.