Chronicles of a HeadCase

The creation of this abyss by the laws of nature, in its most instinctual form of existence. It is the infinite sadness of that falling sensation that robs you of the sunlight. Though the answers have not presented themselves, it is the sundial which tells the time from our natural habitat. Now that the clouds hath come and covered what clear revelations that would otherwise be uncovered, I am lost and deaf to the cries of my seer. The hesitation from the winds will create a twister of destructive force that would send me plunging into the depths of the earth. This wind, is now but a soft whisper and I am already feeling like the echoes; resonating sounds in an empty dream can. I can almost hear you whimper a sorrowful cry… and that is almost enough to wash me away.