I hit the wall with my clenched fist, Blood spurting from my butchered knuckles, The wall stares back,cold and unrelenting, Taking the abuse,animated violent hate emanating from human fragility and emotional incontinence. The sting of pain and the smell of fresh blood, Labored breath forced through gritted teeth. The wall stares back at the self destructing union of cells and rage. Staring at my immortal foe,i bang my head quelling voices of beings i will never see. It feels good, The pain, The ringing in my ears. The trembling of my legs and thumping of my beating heart. The night comes into focus, Every bleating cricket looking for grub and Mosquitoes wailing in a feeding frenzy around my hands, Mother Gaia herself whispers life and death to all her children. She calls to me, In her own way She delights in my resolve to join her As her beckoning caller the moon fills the sky with reckless abandon. I stand there basking in his borrowed light Leaning to one side as he chases his own will to be seen Oblivious to his inevitable demise,he takes what he can brightening dead craters and valleys of dead soil. The moment passes,he has bigger fish to fry as the sun leads him on. Crawling through the darkness,i reach the wall again, Hands mangled,i make feeble fists believing myself to still have a chance, A chance to get through,to see whats on the other side of me. Kyalo.