A tired man was I,
Opened eyes in a world blind.
Sucked into the antlion's trap
While following another man's map
To success,
Sensory death to protect the self
I hide,
Deep down inside,
A hermit in my smallest micron,
Hope crushed, abandoned,
Snapped my bones,
Dust, choking me,
Shredded my skin,
Blank worthless crimson within,
Flowing forward,
Tatters restraining me, tightening with every word,
I was dead when I found out that this world was,
too,
So I made my own,
Empty and safe.
But then you became real.
A plate shift,
Mountains, quakes, rifts,
Oceans and skies sundered,
An explosion of boundless color, vitality,
And you were here.
Everything makes sense in you.
Every thing, every little thing,
Remade, born anew,
Freedom to exist as I was made,
My fears silenced, ended,
My existence unburdened.
I am broken, yet perfect.
And I owe all of this to you.
