Before me lies a blue spring, full of bubbles
from some unknown source. Concentric rings
of dark red and emerald green surround the
pool, but I can only guess at the blue depths
beneath its mask of mist. I am enthralled as
I am drawn to its unguarded phosphorescence.
No hand pushes against the small of my back
except the guiding hand of human curiosity.
The beach is the shade of fire. I step in sand
up to my knees, my waist, around my throat.
I thresh fiercely, a lion trapped in grains of
blood-sand. A sign materializes before me,
but its sole message is no surprise or solace
for this lonely soul. The flames are untrue.
This is a beginning, a metamorphosis, a test
of spirit and will. It rends the flesh utterly.
The ground drops under my feet into water
as green and flowing as soft meadows. My
mouth tastes of copper and fear, so I bend
down for a drink to cleanse me of my past
peril. It has the distinct flavor of lilac and
gooseberries, but it's never to be enjoyed.
As I wade into the deep, my stomach ignites
with such pain that tears my mind to ribbons.
The pain does not subside, but I must swim
through the wall of steam. The water here is
treacherous and mean, and what once was
an air-woven mist is now a pulsating storm.
I reach for it with a hand, yet I am rebuffed,
so I fling myself into the nebula of steam...
My skin is flayed, my blood is boiled, my face
is ripped from bone. Thus, my word is manifest.