I am Valium, of
the second Unit,
Third level, zero zero three of Terra One.
I sit and
stare at the blank, white wall.
They are correcting my mental
And yet, even as the white light gently washes my
Cortex, I can still hear the steady plod of
The great beasts feet and
the jingle of the
I look inside myself again, but find
Match my dreams.
My memory fails the images.
substance or meaning to my strange
Hallucinations, if that is what they
Something!... of ineffable grace, weightlessness and
into the unpolluted air of my mind and
Sings a song of such sweet pain that
I feel a
Physical stab to my heart.
What can it be?
darkling thrush in blast-beruffled plume.
What strange words and
yet what ecstatic sounds!
The great beasts plod on, steaming at their
Powerful, but gentle beasts, singular, magnificent
heavy, hairy feet.
More words come to haunt my brain,
soft-lifted by the winnowing wind.
How beautiful the sounds, even
What is wind?
Perhaps they are from some long banned
I know not.
They said I should not have these
Counter productive and socially regressive they
Adding that a period of correction would
Cleanse my brain.
Somehow I feel that it never will.
These things, images, sounds,
must have some
Purpose that I know not of.
A perfume now assails my nose,
pungent in its
Strength, but not unpleasant.
More disconnected words,
The smell is warm and comforting as of a...
kitchen spring to mind?
What is kitchen?
I know not these things and yet regret their
passed they are and not prophetic be.
I am soft-sift with many thoughts
fallen from the
Outer space of another time and another place.
squeezed themselves into the capsule of
My being, without relation to the
cold world of
Terra One and I weep that I have not the wit to
What means now the smell of burning flesh that
Waters thus the
palate of my mouth and conjures
Tastes that tease the tendrils of a memory
Soft caresses of a summer breeze would seem to
much yet goes for naught.
There is no summer in my world, no
We, they say, are
Processed with care from genesis to re-cycle
Perhaps there lies a fault in me?
A computer error in my genetic
I know not.
I know only that the things I now hear, see
Smell have a quality and joy I tremble to imagine.
is, perhaps, a common thing we
Tread beneath our feet or carelessly destroy
Searching for that very virtue.
Perhaps these things existed and we
Behind white walls or beneath vain-glorious
progress and our own greed.
If so...wither now?