Plea #41: I feel the eye.
It lingers on me.
It itches at the stem of my mind.
I feel it.
The unwelcome tickle to my left.
The unseen fox to my right.
I feel it all around me.
Aching to poison my mind...
It yearns to puppet my carcass once I'm gone...
To add me to its collection...
It's here.
It grows wretched arms from the trees to falter me.
It wets the ground, so I clamber into its grasp.
I must run.
It's fast.
It's clever.
It follows like the sun or the moon.
Always there.
Always waiting.
A silent witness of colossal power.
But I hear it.
It knows I do.
It wants to see my defeat.
It aches for my failure.
For my resignation.
I will not surrender.
I feel it.
I feel the eye.