My eyes close in defeat to hormonal brawl, I am clothed in senile shawl as my lungs gave breath to sound proof sizzles of a bear. In a misguided drift from consciousness, I dissolve as smoke in an unconscious saunter. I have wandered aloft, I am strangely lucid then corded to a time machine, like a tossed coin there is a reversible swap in equilibrium. Recurent visions of events take me; some of which have been and others yet to meet the seer's light hence a premonition of sorts
An unfamiliar but persuasive voice ushers me through a hallway terminating at a portal buried deep in segmented mounds of primeval grooves. Alas I am motionless affronting an oak rimmed mirror. Here, a series of metaphysical messages threaded with the labyrinth of mind casts its rays to fall on this mirror ricocheting a view of self knowledge. Alas wisdom is born.
Wheels of teleportation take me, I am marooned in infinite emptiness, there is much smoke in the air but I cannot capture but a glimpse of the parental fire. This is not smoke! Tis darkness burning with opiate sensation. Having dulled my senses, my numerical knowledge impeded and my wisdom brought to a woeful test, I mistake a flotsam of mist for fueless conflagration. Taking a second look, I saw not mist but fog thick as the stormy clouds, gliding over vales, shrouding the Master of spirits.
Tensed lattices ice up my bones chilling my heart to a febrile cool, I feel cold, the world is killing me, my mother has given me up to my rampaging brothers. Suddenly, very swiftly, a terror makes an entry to the aplause of my fears. A foe known to be ruthless in its deeds. I took to my heels......In my mind I moved as would the hare to evade the killer panther but how fast must one be to outrun the sun? I heard my mother pass judgement, her ropes bound my feet gradually entombing me down the sorrows of my night.
I am the silver haired gaul in a Roman pit; a spectacle in the grim arena. I must fight it! My breath of relief is the last forced from his breast. We clang steels. The first knocks me off my feet. The second has the shards of my shield shattered on a base standing on the pillars of a time waning strength. Then came swinging the third, its brittleness smote the courage in me. I saw my mother point her thumb to the earth and I was locked in the sarcophagus of reccuring anxieties. All that remained was bestial and the fate of one resigned to control of the hangman's lever.
I have been locked out of the fortress of my existence. I heard it scream once it fell but the rhythm played from within still drums my heartbeat. my rhythm enclosed in the castle of grief sited at the cliff of exile of mind, trapped behind my pharynx as proven in anthologies of divinites. The cheering of the unseen crowd to first blood makes my heart beat to omnious metronome. I am paralysed as one bitten by the mamba awaiting the moment. I shut my eyes to hasten time hoping to open to supernatural embrace however be it. Hold on! Do you not hear the voice in the air coming with the bellowings of the south east currents bearing tidings from the great Ethiope? Tis the voice of Ijeoma, tis the voice of my lover dragging me back to life in the canal bossom of her thighs
Alas I was no longer at crimson's gate but in my hamlet staring at the terrified eyes of my lover.