I write in fear, of the Madness that chases, hungry, in the dark. The words, evading It, like mice, scrambling from a ravenous hawk. I scream, twisting from Insanity's grasp, the bleeding walls of ink swirling, around us. My wrists burn at his touch.
He calls, the echoes, insistent, insistent.
I am powerless to stop, this battle behind my eyes, He tears, fistfuls of pale feathers from her wings. She reels, helpless, while I hold, the thinning threads of her breaking life, in my shaking fingers.











