The Maze of Sleep

by A Furtive Schizoid

First published

How incautious we are in desperation and ignorance, both I had possessed in profusion. The dreams of the ponies came to me in this endless expanse that held no dimension, none of ours anyhow. Alone I was lost in the endless opacity of my sleep. Alone I knew the horror at its farthest reaches. My purpose is providence, not peregrination into the profundity of that maze of indiscernible blackness.