You kneel, shivering,
Overlooking your world.
With the knowledge in your mind
That here is the core,
Here is most true.
The eyeless storm,
with cold grey lightning,
and crushing thunder,
lording over a world
of ash and dead trees.
Like a draught
From the mouth of a demon,
the screaming wind
savages your form,
snatches at you heartlessly.
The gale is the only sound,
To permeate this plain,
And it steals your joy,
And batters you onto your knees.
Trying to render useless your escape.
You want to run
To hide away in pain,
But there is only here now.
This dreamscape you created
Within you.