And you find yourself dropped to your knees in the dust.
The dirt looks so inviting, roll around and get comfortable and sleep a while under the blanket of dirt.
Those alluring pools of poison the wise man warned you of, shimmer welcomingly. Sleep first, then crawl and roll to the nearest sinful oasis, drink deeply, and die in comfort.
And for the longest time you just kneel in the dust, unable to move, tears rolling down your face, screaming at the unfairness of it all.
Inviting, roll around, sleep, blanket.
Allure, wisdom, shimmer, drink deep, comfort.
And you find that the pain passes with time, that you can lift one foot into an upright position, no more than that, it’s all you can do to not fall over back into the dust.
And soon, you can crouch, balance on both feet, rock back and forth and all you can see around you:
And you rise to your feet, straighten up, brush yourself down and take your first tentative step toward freedom.