The black storm never left it only grew stronger. I stand without my steed, my sword shattered, my body broken. The storm drags me into its heart, then buries me beneath the sand. I can no longer rise, and now I see it coming for me again.
I face each day with a throbbing head, a cluttered mind, and a tight chest. I can’t find space for anything, nor can anything find space for me. These days, I don’t want them, yet I’m compelled to endure them despite their harshness.