Drifting....seed caught in the wind of life,
one more among many; a grain in a storm
of a thousand sands. Wandering, lost in the
sighing ether, suspended between earth and
sky, it sees many things, and yet sees nothing.
Meaning is lost to it, feeling torn from its numb
grasp, in the hour of its waking. It has known
nothing, has felt nothing, save for the grey air of
the world without, and the grey within; there
where his heart had been.