My being had sought to wander, yet fought to remain quiescent in the heart of the primeval darkness. The tarry streams no longer hummed under my feet, and had not done so since egression sew its seed amidst my thoughts.
In the absence of up, down, right, and left, the pandimensional paths all led one way: nowhere. Strolling about rendered the same achievement as did curling up in place awaiting something to take effect.
Seldom did the uneasiness persuade the apparitions to reveal themselves; for it was this urge aflame which welcomed the perverse pleasure of watching someone writhe and crawl within himself.
What a predicament did the berserker sustain! To possess the drive to triumph, yet being grounded to the opposite polarity to rise atop for a glimpse of hope in this puzzle of timeless void.
Resting seated here, the crude and lively anal glands of night delivered its offspring of stifling smoke inside my lungs. I fumbled my chest, clawing at the skin as if I could cast it out of me whilst flashes of shorelines danced before me in a frenzy.
The Nocturnal Versifier 