Walking sluggish, slightly stepping motions rolling forward, tiptoeing through the dense fog. Fog surrounding, wrapping itself around me, with a shivering cloak touched with the drenched and misted cold air. I weep, I sigh. I wake, I cry. My lead heavy head drags from one side to the next to balance my body from falling down from bed. No shelter from the damp frigid weight I feel digging down to my core. My stomach jolts and tumbles and shouts “let me free, let me out… Send me peace from my tortured soul, make me well, make me whole”. I weep, I sigh, I wake, I cry. All I long to do is lay down and die. I know that this cannot be. As I walk on this never ending journey. A path of dead ends, where new life refuses to simply begin. The fog rolls in and I am marching in time to the beat of my dying heart pumping a near flatline. I weep, I sigh, I wake, I cry.