A desperate knocking wakes me from my dreams of this and that Who could it be at this hour ranting so loudly As I approach the door I am gripped by a feeling not unlike remorse I find that my steps are slower now as the banging becomes violent against a door that threatens to splinter under the brutal assault that has befallen my doorstep Before I reach the door a fierce wind forces it open with a shriek Standing in the entrance to my house I see myself but not The man before me stands taller stronger then I He is not me but something more I turn to run for fear that I had wronged this one That he had come to take revenge upon me for some forgotten deed As I look for an escape I realize it is not a house at all that I stand in but a box Sure it holds the items and accessories that you would find in a home Yet there are no windows no view to the world outside I ponder this and realize that I cannot recall the last time I had been outside the shelter of this place Yet more disheartening I cannot recount any outing at all I look back and realize that the man is no longer at the door In fact the door itself is no longer there My gaze sweeps desperately looking for some sense in this madness All the comforts of this place disappear before my eyes Pictures of a past I never truly lived Seating and bedding that never brought comfort What is comfort? Had I ever met him? I think not In the midst of confusion and chaos I feel a welling inside of me Like a damn at the very edge of its limits pressure gathered I was trapped I had always been trapped NO NO NOOOOOO!! I charge with all of my might toward the spot where the door had once been As if possessed by someone other then myself I begin to pound on the wall with surprising strength Surprising also and profound is the elation that seems to increase with every impact I feel the wall begin to give under unrelenting attack not just this wall but all tremble under the assault I gather my will and exert everything within for one last strike But before the blow lands upon the cracked and weary wall it crumbles as if not by strength itself As if the wall fell as a result of the awareness that the strength was there I pause panting and laughing to look around at new and wondrous surroundings To find a huge unweathered box behind me Curious I approach and as I come close I see a door appear Urged forward by unseen forces of some plea for help I begin to knock and soon I am overcome by urgency and knocking turns to banging And banging quickly becomes pounding All of a sudden a fierce wind springs forth from within me from some hidden source The door opens with a shriek When I peer inward I almost faint with understanding I see myself but not The man before me stands slighter weaker than I He is not me but something less. |