The heaviness was beyond fog, a thickness and darkness of air and soul. Graveyard of the damned. Dark, lifeless trees towered over the ground, keeping out any glimpse of sky. Row after row of headstones. There are no visitors and no flowers placed among these graves.
Beckoned from the damned, I rise. I scratch and claw and arise from the dirt. I crawl. I slither among the ground like the worm that I am. My stomach, my legs, my chin have been rubbed raw. My finger tips bleed. Eyes closed, I smash my head into another headstone. Pushing my body under a large overgrown vine, I slither on and beyond. I slither out of the graveyard.
My eyes still closed, I have no wisdom of my whereabouts. Like a new discovery, I bend up to my knees and elbows. I crawl. I find it to be much more productive. Tall trees surround me. A thick forest. They grow thick overhead and shield any sight of sky if my eyes were open to see. There is a thick underbrush. I seek no path, I seek no comfort, but I crawl on my hands and knees through the thick brush. Hour after hour.
My body begins to twitch all over. I seize. Suddenly, with no thought, with no realization of the action, my eyes open. I see I am twisted in the thickness of the brush. I crawl toward relief. I now travel on a path. My eyes are open, it is not a thought, it just is. I can see. I do not comprehend. I do not look around. But I see and I crawl on.
Jerking, my legs begin to push in. I fall. My body attempts the movement again. Using my new sense of sight, I crawl to a tree and use it to push my legs in. My entire body hugs the tree as I push and force my body upward. Slowly, painfully pushing my face against the tree and scratching my raw face, I achieve an upright position.
Arched over, head down, arms flopping, I travel on. My eyes look down. I am quite pleased with myself. I am in an upward position and my eyes watch the path. I travel on. Hours and hours. No rest. I drag my legs, swing my arms and I walk on. Then I have a thought. It is something that I am starting to do now. I think. It hurts my head at first, but I press on. I walk and I think. I walk and I think. I see that the path has changed. The path is flowing. I flop my foot forward for the next step. It splashes the path. The flowing part of the path shines. It forms an image. With my proud new vision, I look. I swing my arms. It imitates. I think again. It is a reflection. I see myself. I see myself hunched over. I push at my back. I stand.
I stand upward. I stand straight. I press my chest out and push my head up. I walk. I walk with something that is quite a new sensation. Confidence. I walk. I see. I think. As I walk on, the trees begin to thin. Something shines through the top. I squint. It is bright, I have never seen that before. The sun shines down on me. My body begins to drop dirt. It becomes clean and pure. My matted hair falls down and flows long and clean and free. My raw bleeding skin heals and is of the purest cleanest beauty. My rags radiate a white flowing gown.
I run. My body presses on with strength and beauty and confidence. I break through the edge of the forest into a wide clearance. The sun kisses my body, a flock of birds spring and fly matching my speed. Flowers blow in the field, complimenting my beauty. I have been resurrected from the damned. My Lord has beckoned me, I run and do not grow weary. Transformed, I persevere.