Journey.
When the force of wickedness came upon him,
A force against,
He became overwhelmed,
With a suffocating feeling that all the evils of the world
Were attacking him,
Worry, panic, coldness,
Willed by a nameless engine of the non sensual world.
The beast begins to breath, taking in fuel,
The energy being from his own panic and worry.
A feeling of deathliness takes him over,
He sees a force of death on him,
The trap has begun, the feeling of dieing with no way out
Worry of death marching with a speed unmatchable by an encompassing brightness.
Light, a thread, he pulls
He tries to grasp it with the might of a soul.
It eludes, he asks for the light
The light fills the known universe, erodes the black, breaks the black, banishment.
Cautious joy,
Cautious freedom.
A light of a helper eludes you to your relinquishing task.
Non sensually.