I thought it was dry, but it wasn’t.
As I set my foot upon the waterlogged earth, I realize
This muck will be my undoing.
It will seep into my shoes and penetrate my very soul,
My very essence, my very being.
This will drive myself towards self-destruction
And the pity of others at a time needed least.
It will kill me, and I know this for a fact.
But not in the way you would expect.
I will die by right, but not fully.
I will still wander this planet, but as something else.
I will be but an imprint of my former self,
A shadow, if you will.
This is to be my fate. There is no changing it.
This is the end as we know it.