Screaming into the abyss churning below the edge of certainty,
The voice dissolves into the insurmountable void, and so
Coalesces into that petrified sea of ink, which leaves
Oily stains, dark on my consciousness, likened to
A maw of ever-swallowing nothingness, until the
Whimpers bubble from a font of pitch, which
I recognize, as
my own.
Discarded Recollections 