he slipped quite quietly out of his own mind,
roaming free, letting go,
consumed with a curiosity of what he might find,
sliding through shadows into the darkest cascades,
skipping past sancturies,
some hidden, some buried,
like treasures from the everglades,
gregariousness a thing of the past,
as the lightness grew dim,
into himself he became a murmur of a forgotten mask,
scattered and shattering like a flightless fawned bird,
he screamed, he stomped, he wailed,
but swamped in his black anguish,
all he felt echoed thin into the nothingness
and remained unheard