He can't see; he can't breath
he can only stumble in the dark and hope for salvation
As one searching for the light; only the kind found in another's keeping.
He is a living, breathing moth.
And a stumble, and a fall and a ditch with no stairs. And a hurt and blood.
All in silence
Look and you shall see someone once said.
Eyes that are blind, ears that won't hear
and a heart that won't feel, create a human being not worth knowing.
I can hear and I can feel, he said,
I don't understand the darkness, he explained to the air.
There should be light in this bright world. Someone should show me that this isn't reality.
Reality that isn't dark and damp. Something wet dropped down his cheek. He winced at the cold wetness in shock. The blind man can wonder where it's coming from, if no one sees it coming, before sharing with him.
The blind man sits and wonders.
He sits and he can't breath
He can't see but he still feels.
He is alone and he knows it.
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