Aware enough I am
Knowing it is them that make the noise I hear
See these blankets made from ice.
The buckling of the breaking ice so loud, so sudden
...
Death, impenetrable darkness
Abysmal nothingness
With it the ability to feel no pain nor pleasure
Retreat from one's own mind
...
I look into the stream, watch fragments of somethings that were once a part of a greater, more elaborate and meaningful something
I see them come, I see them go
They round the corner, so I wonder inside myself
From where did they derive?
...