A man

I'll tell you the story of a man whose memories were lost, whose diamond was broken, crumbled, in every place, at every time. He came from the darkness of a mouth, low, there, where everything melts, where everything begins, the fire and the blood, the flesh and the tears
: inside, the inner primordial explosion; outside, the fragments, the bits of the discarded starter.
His head was circled by emptiness, his hands touching the stars, his feet walking on an invisible thread, a long way from there to nowhere or to all the places.
A labyrinth?
A circle?
A straight path?
Through the nights and the days, the dark and the light, the knowledge and the blindness, the hunger and the thirsty, will he find the way home ?
He could feel every single part of his body now, again, he could feel the air, the earth, the sky, the water. He still couldn't feel his mind, it has been stolen, centuries ago, low, there, taken, crumbled, here.
He's walking, he's still walking, drag by his will, forced by his anger, still empty. There are flat paper-faces there, one-dimension faces leaning on him, observing him, waving at him, smiling at him, making grimaces at him. Moved by the wind like flowers, destroyed by the rain like ants. It's a long way, one cannot come back, anyway, not now, not like that.
Impossible.
One cannot do what they want only because they want to do something right now.
Rules.
One cannot pass through one wall which separates them to the other paths, not like that, not now, another now, maybe, but not his.
It's so dark, deeply dark, cannot breath, cannot let the emptiness eat his mind.
Run, run fast, can't see the trees along both sides of the way, their colours are melting, brown-green-yellow-red walls, can't see the end.
Can't come back now, he has been pushed so far.
It's cold, so cold.
Time.
What time is it?
...

AM

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