A Lull In The Proceedings

Now depression must wait, to the twister of death; the sky now grey not black
The rain is still pouring in amounts previously unseen
Burial complete, the blood is cleansed from my hands
And now I must flee this demilitarized sector
Night has come the woods have become a frightening abode
I feel her kin breathing down my back
A valley appears that is free of the storm
When morning comes I will be far from here
Priority lies with covering whatever trail I've made
Evasion is the short term key
Nervous tremblings slow an already tiresome tread
An hour the time I need to reflect
Sands of unconciousness pour along a belt that feels like vapours of discordance as I leave my solid state
The obvious imperative - escape
To the Kromnium transport
To a distant system
Where life can begin again
The astral voyage leads me to the delta
A craft prepares to depart
The last remaining pieces go to she who flies
The destination of this journey is certain.