It was from the depths that the monsters siezed me,
for I was more than I dared and less than I appeared.
No longer was it a fight to be won, but a matter to be resolved.
A darkening, twisting mess with cobwebs on the ceilings and hurricanes through the floors,
still, in my bed I would rest.
I adored nothing more than life itself and felt pure through the crying of the wind,
but still I was lost in such a maze of maddening beauty and in the eye of a storm driven by pain itself.

Then I was free and I was alive and I was reborn,
I felt no sorrow, no pity or joy for the destruction of the willows or the leaves that fell,
nor the heads that would spin and still regain no sense of themselves.
Where the wind lies still, as it does and where I can see what others are made of, there i will lie.

Rise me from the shallows this time, try to sink me from above,
for the feeding from my hunger and the breathing of my breath do not suffice to wake you from your sleep or take you from your woes.
Take your time to hear the monster, dream its dreams and speak its words,
and empty yourself of the days that have forgotten you
and you will survive and you will succeed.
Become of one, become of many until you reach into the woods and through the roots and into your soul, to whom yourself can speak.