It is nothing but a distant echo. But a less harsh retelling of a benighted travel down a song, in a dirge on a rugged stretch of road. A road that rose beneath my feet and met my soles as I traveled down on a journey that turned upward. And time became gravity that was bitter cold. I sustained myself on the light of my thoughts that wrestled free of their substance in my beset mind. And the fear that darkened me in night became the light by which I now do see.