272. Untitled

The pencil's lead falls between
the grooves of the sheet
As if following a path travelled
before - revealing things
once said, yet never known.
What is it that calls us forward?
Out of the shadows and into
blinding white light -
Squinting and turning away -
Protecting one's eyes; body even
recoiling back to the dark
What is this thing that causes us
to act as so?
I hear it; you see it -
No one speaks it though
It's weighing us down -
You must feel it too
We can't escape it.....
I try - do you want to?
It's so hard.....escaping.....
Devouring........
slowly..........
gasping.............
no more.