On a Walk To the Bottom of a Page

It starts off with a familiar route and follows a course of well lit streets where the incline is not too steep, takes you pass the local shops, the bus stop and the entrance to a park. Then it all goes downhill from here, inducing a kind of hypnotic state where everything begins to unravel and float away on sorties in search of meaning and the more damaged seek out a refuge and try to mend what is broken. Words wander the dark like lost ghosts to find what is missing and a vacant space each can fill and call its own. Yet so much falls in between. Animals are running loose and the menagerie you keep caged inside your head has been breached. That flashing light up there ahead is becoming ominous. Something is closing in. Voices are everywhere having escaped the throats of those to whom they once belonged, roaming the world to seduce an ear. Time now to roll yourself up into a ball and get smaller until you are no more than a tiny dot at the bottom of a page - then get out of here .