Feel it now
this shortness of breath
this struggle to breath
images enter my eyes unrecieved
they batter my soul
and my mind
as the wind, discordant, unkind
blows through mental apocalypse
leaving no sign
of the world that I knew
only seconds ago
ergo
how come?
which son, what time?
this rhyme
a broken arrow
in the side
of one, only one.