I venture  the old paths and   travel the long roads.  I walk alone, but yet i am carried.I feel a presence move me, it controls me.  When I cannot speak, and i cannot see. I let it take me. I let it carry me to a new place. To a place, to which I will always return, but never leave. A place I wish to escape,  and to stay in. Full of warm comforts, and cold fears.  I n this place I hear their hearts.I remember the rhythm of their beats, I hear their beating hearts slow and stop. Slow and stop, slow then stop. they tell me, in their last words.They whisper to me, they say"there will be no survivors tonight" And then, in my wild fear, I will run.but run to where?My feet swiftly bring me back each time.As if no other place they know best. And then I'm there again.In a place between life and death. I am not invicible, but penetrable. My bones, once strongDicinegrate in the wind.and once my foundation has dissapeared,how will i be found?I will be too far gone.  and yet i am carried.an erie presence moves my feet with chains,my hands with strings.it is the same presence who scarred my wrists,and shamed my soul.it bloodied my footprints,it stole away my youth. it took me as a friend,but caged me as its prisoner.it threw away the key,in the lights too bright for my soul i venture the old paths, i walk the broken road. i warn all who come near,i say to them "turn and run,this is not a place for you"