Another grey desk day
another sift through dusty data
blindly searching
a worm crawling in earth
tasting bitter clays
digging for connection
mouth always agape
no sight no sound no world
but the data
But this isnt reality
Reality will always be
violent death stalking
coming for you through
the silent mists
across the barren mountainside
the pounding pulse
in your temple, your throat
the clammy feeling of your
hands on that wood
the bitter adrenaline taste
and the sudden sweet hope